CHARLES  T.  HILL 


4 


lEx  ICtbrtfi 


SEYMOUR  DURST 


When  you  leave,  please  leave  this  hook 

Because  it  has  been  said 
"£ver' thing  comes  t'  him  who  waits 

Except  a  loaned  book." 


Avery  Architectural  and  Fine  Arts  Library 
Gift  of  Seymour  B.  Durst  Old  York  Library 


D 

igitized  by 

the  Internet 

Archive 

in  2013 

http://archive.org/details/fightingfireOOhill_0 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


A  NEW  YORK  FIRE. 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


BY 

CHARLES  T.  HILL 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS 
PROM  DRAWINGS  BY  THE  AUTHOR 


NEW  YORK 
THE  CENTURY  CO. 
1903 


CopjTight,  1894,  1896,  1897, 
By  The  Century  Co. 


The  DeVinne  Press. 


TO  THE 

OFFICERS  AND  MEMBERS 

OF  THE  FIRE  DEPARTMENT  OF  GREATER  NEW  YORK 
THIS  LITTLE  BOOK  IS 

DEDICATED, 

IN   GRATEFUL   ACKNOWLEDGMENT    OF  ASSISTANCE 
GIVEN  THE  AUTHOR  IN  HIS  ATTEMPT  TO  RE- 
LATE THEIR    EXPERIENCES  AND  THEIR 
ACHIEVEMENTS  IN  FIGHTING  FIRE, 
AND    IN    SAVING    LIFE  AND 
PROPERTY. 


COOTENTS 

PAGE 

Fighting  a  Fire   1 

A  School  for  Firemen   36 

An  Alarm  of  Fire  by  Telegraph   62 

The  Risks  of  a  Fireman's  Life   106 

Peter  Spots,  Fireman   153 

Floating  Fire-Engines   189 

The  Fire  Patrol   217 


ix 


ILLUSTKATIONS 


PAGE 

The  House- Watchman  and  the  Gongs  ....  5 

Hitching  Up   9 

"Rolling  to  the  Fire"  —  At  Full  Speed  ...  13 

"Stretching  In."   17 

"Opening  Up."   21 

The  Battalion-Chief  Arrives  and  Takes 

Command   25 

"  Hitting  the  Fire.'^   29 

"  Taking  Up."   33 

A  Chain  of  Ladders   37 

Climbing  "  en  echelon."   39 

"Building  a  Chain."    43 

The  Belt,  Showing  the  "  Snap  "  Hook  and 

Hatchet   45 

Using  the  Scaling-Ladder  —  "Straddling 

Sills."   47 

"  Standing  on  Sills."   51 

Carrying  a  Man  Down  the  "  Roof-Line."    .  .  55 

Catching  a  Man  in  the  "Life-Net."   59 

A  Street  Box.    Sending  in  an  Alarm   63 

Keyless  Box,  Outside   65 

Keyless  Box,  Opened  i  .  .  67 

XI 


xii  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Keyless  Box,  Inside   68 

A  Fire-Engine  Appears,  Drawn  by  Three 

Plunging  Gray  Horses."   71 

"  The  Engine  Approaching  From  the  East  Turns 

THE  Corner."    75 

A  Hook- AND-L ADDER  Company   79 

A  Water-Tower   83 

General  View  of  the  Fire-Alarm  Telegraph 

Headquarters   87 

A  Set  of  Wheels  from  the  Special   89 

.  The  Register    .  »   91 

A  Repeater  Button   94 

The  Repeater   95 

The  ^^Transmitter."  »  .  .  .  .  99 

The  Operator  Sending  Out  an  Alarm  on  the 

'^Combination."    .   103 

Attacking  a  Fire  in  a  Sub-Cellar   109 

A  Leap  for  Life   115 

Going  to  a  Fire  in  a  Blizzard   121 

Ladder-Work  in  Zero  Weather.   127 

"Taking"  a  Shower  of  Falling  Glass   133 

A  Hot  Place   137 

A  Falling  Wall   143 

"Start  Your  Water."   147 

Peter  Spots   155 

" ^  Would  You  Like  to  be  a  Fireman's  Dog V"  .  161 

Peter  on  Duty   167 


ILLUSTRATIONS  xiii 

PAGE 

Peter  on    House- Watch.''  .  .  .  »   173 

"  Every  Time  Peter  Gave  a  Kick,  He  Knocked  a 

Pie  or  a  Plate  full  of  Cakes  out  of  the 

Window/'   179 

"  Crash  !  Out  he  Caivie,  Through  Glass  and  all  183 

The  ^'  New-Yorker  "  at  Fire  Drill   191 

Giant  Monitor-Nozzle  on  the  Fire  Boat  "  New 

Yorker."   195 

Fire-Boat    Zophar  Mills."   201 

The  Fire-Boat  "  Wm.  F.  Havemeyer  "  Beginning 

Work  on  a  Burning  Pier   205 

The  "  New-Yorker  "  and  "  Zophar  Mills  "  at 

Work  Upon  a  Burning  Ship   213 

The  Chemical  Engine   219 

The  Fire  Patrol   225 

Fire  Patrol  Men  Carrying  Covers  into  a 

Burning  Store    231 

In  the  Cellar  with  the  Fire   237 

A  Water-Tower  at  Work   243 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


EAR  the  door  of  every  engine-house  there 


1  is  a  railed-off  space,  at  the  end  of  which 
stands  a  small  desk  with  a  gas-jet  beside  it.  On 
the  desk  is  a  large  book — known  officially  as  the 
house-journal."  In  this  book  is  kept  a  detailed 
record  of  all  the  fires  this  company  has  taken  part 
in  extinguishing,  and  it  also  contains  other  memo- 
randa in  connection  with  the  working  of  the  de- 
partment. At  the  desk  sits  a  fireman,  reading 
a  paper,  perhaps,  or  maybe  putting  down  in  the 
journal  the  record  of  some  fellow-fireman  who 
has  just  gone  off  duty  for  a  short  time,  first 
having  obtained  the  permission  of  the  company's 
captain.  Near  by,  somewhere  on  the  apparatus- 
floor,  possibly  another  fireman  may  be  found 
cleaning  out  the  stalls  of  the  horses,  or  keeping 
bright  the  metal-work  on  the  swinging-harness, 
but  ready  in  an  instant  to  assist  in  hitching  up 
the  horses  should  a  "call,"  or  an  alarm,  come 


2 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


ringing  out  from  the  array  of  instruments  ranged 
along  the  wall  near  the  desk. 

The  man  sitting  at  the  desk  is  the  "man  on 
watch,"  or  "  house- watchman,"  as  he  is  called. 
One  is  on  duty  all  the  time,  alternating  with  other 
members  of  the  company,  the  day's  length  being 
divided  in  five  watches,  as  follows :  from  8  A.  m. 
till  1  p.  M.;  from  1  till  6  p.  m.;  from  6  P.  M.  till  12 
midnight ;  from  12  m.  till  6  A.  M. ;  and  from  6  till 
8  A.  M.  (the  "  dog-watch  Two  men  are  on  watch 
at  the  "  last  watch,"  or  that  one  from  12  midnight 
till  6  A.  M.,  to  facilitate  the  hitching  up  of  the 
horses,  the  rest  of  the  company  being  in  bed. 

Let  us  look  at  the  various  instruments  for  re- 
ceiving the  alarm.  They  are  not  many,  and  are 
very  interesting.  I  shall  describe  them  without 
using  any  technicalities,  for  I  know  very  little 
about  them  technically,  but  I  will  try  to  explain 
what  an  important  part  they  take  in  aiding  the 
firemen  to  respond  to  an  alarm  of  fire. 

First,  at  the  lower  right-hand  side,  on  a  black 
walnut  base-board,  is  placed  the  instrument  offi- 
cially called  the  "combination,"  and  by  the  fire- 
men termed  the  "joker."  Why  "joker"  I  do  not 
know;  but  it  is  called  the  "combination"  because 
it  combines  both  the  bell  for  receiving  the  alarm^ 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


3 


and  the  "trip,"  or  device  for  mechanically  releas- 
ing the  horses,  which  I  shall  describe  further  on. 

This  is  the  first  bell  to  ring  the  alarm,  or  num- 
ber of  the  station  whence  the  alarm  is  sent;  but 
before  it  rings  there  is  a  slight  "click"  heard  in 
the  Morse  instrument  placed  above  it.  This  might 
be  called  a  "  warning  bell,"  and  by  the  ordinary 
listener  would  not  be  noticed  at  all;  but  to  the 
quick  ear  of  the  man  on  watch,  and  the  equally 
well-trained  ears  of  the  horses,  there  needs  no 
second  stroke  to  tell  them  that  an  alarm  will  fol- 
low. This  click  is  caused  by  the  opening  of  the 
electric  circuit  in  which  the  station  is  situated. 

Beside  the  combination-bell,  or  joker,  there  is 
a  small  weight  that  slides  up  and  down  a  brass 
rod.  It  is  held  in  place  at  the  top  by  a  catch  con- 
nected with  the  hammer  of  the  bell;  and,  as  this 
hammer  draws  back  to  make  the  first  stroke  of 
the  alarm,  it  releases  this  weight,  and  the  weight 
slides  down  the  rod.  Being  attached  by  a  little 
chain  to  a  lever  projecting  from  the  side  of  a  clock 
hanging  beside  it,  the  weight,  as  it  falls,  pulls  this 
lever  down  and  stops  the  clock,  thus  showing  at 
what  instant  the  alarm  was  received. 

At  the  bottom  of  the  rod  there  is  a  very  large 
lever  set  with  a  trigger-like  catch,  and  connected 


4 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


by  wires  underneath  the  floor  with  the  stalls  of 
the  horses.  In  the  side  of  each  stall  there  is  a 
sliding  bolt  to  which  is  fastened  the  halter-strap, 
or  chain,  that  keeps  the  horses  in  their  stalls. 
These  bolts  are  connected  by  the  wires  with  one 
end  of  the  lever,  and  to  the  other  end  is  attached 
a  heavy  counter-weight,  also  under  the  floor.  The 
trigger-like  catch  is  so  adjusted  that  it  just  over- 
balances this  weight  when  the  "  trip "  is  set. 
When  an  alarm  begins  to  ring,  the  same  falling 
weight  that  stops  the  clock  strikes  this  trigger; 
this  "trips"  the  lever,  it  flies  up,  the  bolts  are 
pulled  down  in  the  stalls,  and  the  horses  are  re- 
leased the  instant  the  first  tap  on  the  gong  is 
heard. 

Above  the  combination  is  placed  a  Morse  in- 
strument—  sounder  and  key  —  and  beside  it  a 
telephone,  to  communicate  Avith  headquarters  or 
with  other  companies,  and  also  a  few  frames  con- 
taining a  list  of  stations  that  particular  company 
goes  to,  on  receiving  the  first,  second,  or  third 
alarms. 

At  the  other  side,  nearly  over  the  desk,  is  placed 
the  big  gong,  twelve  or  fifteen  inches  in  diameter, 
and  very  loud-sounding.  This  begins  to  strike 
when  the  smaller  gong  has  rung  off  two  "  rounds," 


THE  HOUSE-WATCHMAN  AND  THE  GONGS. 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


7 


or  the  number  of  the  box  twice,  and  should  the 
man  on  watch  have  failed  to  count  the  num- 
ber of  the  station  on  the  joker,  he  will  have 
no  difficulty  in  getting  the  number  from  the  big 
gong,  for  it  strikes  slowly  —  that  is,  slowly  in 
comparison  with  the  joker,  which  rings  the  num- 
ber out  very  fast.  The  large  gong  is  very  loud, 
and  can  be  heard  a  block  away.  The  company 
receives  four  rounds  on  the  small  bell  and  two 
on  the  big  bell;  or,  more  correctly  speaking,  the 
number  of  the  station  is  rung  four  times  on  the 
joker  and  twice  on  the  big  gong.  But  it  is 
rarely  that  the  firemen  have  to  wait  to  get  the 
signal  from  the  latter,  for  before  the  small  bell 
has  rattled  off  its  second  round  the  engine  has 
rolled  out  of  the  house  and  they  are  on  the  way 
to  the  fire. 

A  light  is  burning  brightly  beside  the  desk; 
inside  the  railed  inclosure  a  fireman  sits  reading 
a  newspaper,  and  with  one  hand  shades  his  eyes 
from  the  bright  glare  of  the  gas-jet  in  front  of 
him.  Maybe  he  is  dozing;  but  if  he  is  taking  a 
quiet  nap,  he  is  sleeping  as  General  Grrant  did  on 
the  eve  of  battle — with  one  eye  open.  In  the  rear 
of  one  of  the  stalls  another  fireman,  pitchfork  in 
hand,  is  shaking  up  and  arranging  the  hay  that 


8 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


forms  the  bed  for  the  horses.  A  few  passers-by- 
stop  for  a  moment  to  look  in  through  the  partly- 
open  doorway  at  the  spick-and-span  apparatus 
always  in  such  perfect  order:  the  harness  swing- 
ing evenly  over  the  pole  of  the  engine,  the  end  of 
which,  butted  with  brass,  shines  like  polished  gold. 
Already  some  of  the  horses  are  down  on  their 
haunches  nibbling  at  a  bit  of  hay,  and  preparing 
to  go  to  sleep.  The  telegraph-instruments  at  the 
side  keep  up  an  endless  clicking  and  tingling,  and 
but  for  these  sounds  all  would  be  very  quiet. 
Overhead,  in  the  "bunk-room,"  or  dormitory,  the 
men  are  preparing  to  "  turn  in,"  but  a  few,  in  one 
corner,  lingering  to  watch  the  result  of  an  exciting 
game  of  checkers  between  two  recognized  cham- 
pions of  the  company. 

Click  !  —  one  stroke  on  the  instrument,  followed 
by  a  quick  tang -tang -tang -tang -tang  —  a  pause, 
tang -tang -tang  —  a  pause,  tang-ta7ig  on  the  joker 
—  the  man  at  the  desk  springs  to  his  feet  and 
shouts,  "  G-et  up  ! "  —  the  weight  has  fallen,  the 
lever  flies  up,  the  horses  are  released.  They 
need  no  command,  but  are  on  their  feet  even 
before  the  fireman  calls,  and  rattle  out  of  their 
stalls  and  under  the  swinging-harness.  Snap^ 
snap  I  go  the  collars  about  their  necks,  and  then 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


11 


the  "bit-snaps"  are  locked  at  each  side  in  an 
instant.  Thud^  tJitid  !  come  the  men,  sliding  down 
the  poles  at  both  sides  of  the  house,  and  striking* 
the  rubber  pads  placed  below.  Bounding  from 
there  to  the  floor,  they  climb  to  their  various 
places  upon  the  apparatus. 

The  driver  has  jumped  to  his  seat  on  the  engine 
and  snaps  in  place  the  belt  that  secures  him  there ; 
the  engineer,  and  the  foreman  also,  spring  on  the 
engine;  and  the  engineer  with  one  foot  shoves 
down  a  lever  in  the  floor  that  shuts  off  connec- 
tion with  a  boiler  in  the  basement.  This  boiler 
always  keeps  up  about  ten  or  twelve  pounds 
of  steam-pressure  in  the  engine.  The  engineer 
snatches  up  a  lump  of  oil-soaked  waste,  lights  it, 
and  throws  it  in  the  furnace  of  the  engine,  amid 
the  wood  piled  there;  the  driver  leans  forward,  and, 
taking  up  the  reins,  gives  a  slight  pull  toward  him. 
This  pull  releases  a  catch  in  the  iron  framework 
that  holds  up  the  harness,  and  this  frame  flies  up 
to  the  ceiling,  letting  the  harness  fall  on  the  backs 
of  the  horses. 

The  man  on  watch  shouts  to  the  driver  the 
number  of  the  station  and  its  locality,  the  big 
doors  slide  open  —  and  the  engine  dashes  off  to 
the  fire! 


12 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


The  same  manoeuvers  have  been  going  on  be- 
hind the  engine,  where  the  '^tender,"  or  hose-car- 
riage, is  hitching  up,  and  it  is  after  the  engine  as 
fast  as  the  horses  can  fly. 

I  have  leave  to  jump  on  and  go  with  them. 
JRattlety-hang  we  pound  over  the  cobbles,  and  then 
—  with  a  hump!  we  go  over  the  flagging  at  the 
crossing  —  swish!  around  the  corner  with  a  turn 
so  quick  it  makes  my  hair  stand  on  end,  and  we 
"straighten  out"  for  a  run  along  the  avenue. 

We  are  now  in  the  wake  of  the  engine,  in  a 
cloud  of  smoke  and  cinders  pouring  from  the  top 
of  the  latter,  and  we  are  gaining  every  second. 
The  lamp-posts  —  the  shop- windows  —  the  crowds 
of  shouting  people — pass  back  of  us  like  a  quickly 
flying  panorama.  The  horses  seem  fairly  to  fly. 
Around  this  wagon  we  swing,  then  pull  up  for 
another  until  a  half-frightened  driver  can  turn  his 
startled  horse  out  of  our  way,  and  then  we  put  on 
a  burst  of  speed  to  make  up  for  the  delay. 

I  assure  you,  it  takes  a  cool  head  and  a  quick 
eye  to  drive  a  pair  of  fire-horses. 

We  are  quickly  almost  up  with  the  engine,  for 
our  horses  have  less  weight  to  pull,  and  soon  we 
have  no  difliculty  in  passing  it,  which  we  do  with 
a  shout.    Now  we  are  nearing  the  fire,  the  men 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


15 


beside  me  are  leisurely  pulling  on  their  rubber 
coats  and  putting  on  their  fire-hats,  and  I  —  well, 
I  am  holding  on  for  dear  life,  expecting  every 
moment  to  be  thrown  off  behind  in  a  heap.  Not 
that  I  am  afraid  —  oh,  no !  —  but  you  see,  I  am  the 
"thirteenth"  member  of  the  company  (so  every 
friend,  or  hanger-on,  of  a  company  is  called,  there 
being  twelve  regular  members  —  a  foreman,  an 
assistant  foreman,  and  ten  men),  and  I  have  to 
take  very  good  care  of  myself  in  consequence,  for 
that  is  considered  an  unlucky  number  to  bear; 
and  if  anything  happens,  it  may  happen  to  me. 

A  big  cloud  of  black  smoke,  a  group  of  excited 
people,  a  policeman  running  toward  us,  indicate 
the  location  of  the  fire.  A  fireman  jumps  from 
the  tender,  and,  running  ahead  of  us,  looks  for 
the  nearest  hydrant.  About  eighteen  or  twenty 
feet  of  the  hose  has  been  run  off  the  reel,  and  a 
man  stands  with  it  in  hand  ready  to  throw  it  to 
the  man  at  the  hydrant.  Another  tender  has 
turned  the  corner  ahead,  and  is  making  with  break- 
neck speed  for  the  same  pump.  Can  we  reach  it 
first? 

Our  driver  leans  forward  and  urges  the  horses 
onward,  giving  them  full  rein,  and  they  jump 
through  the  air,  pulling  the  tender  along  with 


16 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


great  jerks.  We  near  the  hydrant;  our  man 
stands  there  ready,  waving  his  wrench  in  the  air 
and  shouting  to  us.  The  other  tender  is  advanc- 
ing with  frightful  rapidity,  but  they  are  just  a 
little  too  late! 

We  fly  past  the  hydrant,  the  hose  is  thrown  to 
our  man,  he  takes  a  turn  about  the  pump,  and  we 
"stretch  in"  to  the  fire.  This  gives  us  "first 
water,"  as  it  is  called,  and  the  foreman  of  our  com- 
pany takes  precedence  of  the  foremen  of  all  other 
companies  on  account  of  being  the  first  to  arrive, 
and  has  "  charge  of  the  fire  "  until  a  battalion-chief 
arrives,  when  the  foreman  turns  the  command 
over  to  him. 

Our  captain  has  jumped  off  the  engine  at  the 
corner,  and,  running  ahead,  is  at  the  entrance  to 
direct  us  when  we  arrive. 

Our  engine  follows  quickly,  and,  dashing  up  to 
the  hydrant,  the  hydrant-connection  is  unshipped 
from  its  place  in  the  long  tubes  that  hang  over 
the  wheels  on  both  sides  of  the  boiler,  and  is  fas- 
tened to  the  hydrant  and  then  to  the  pump  of  the 
engine.  The  hose,  taken  around  to  the  other  side 
of  the  engine,  is  rapidly  screwed  to  the  pump,  and 
we,  having  pulled  up  in  front  of  the  fire,  hastily 
roll  off  from  the  reel  the  number  of  lengths  of 


I 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


19 


hose  needed;  a  nozzle  is  placed  at  the  end,  and 
we  are  all  ready  when  the  order  is  passed  to  the 
engineer  to  "start  the  water." 

It  is  a  cellar  fire, —  a  bad  one, — and  in  a  factory. 
Clouds  of  dense  black  smoke  pour  up  from  the 
basement,  and  out  of  every  crevice  around  the  big 
folding-doors  that  form  the  entrance.  Bits  of  fall- 
ing glass  tell  us  that  the  pressm^e  of  smoke  and 
of  the  gas  generated  by  the  combustion  going  on 
within  the  building  is  beginning  to  break  the  win- 
dows in  the  upper  part,  and  if  we  are  not  active 
the  flames  will  get  the  better  of  us.  Om*  fore- 
man is  everywhere  at  once,  directing  the  captains 
of  the  arriving  companies  to  their  different  posi- 
tions. 

Two  more  tenders  have  rolled  up  and  deposited 
their  complement  of  hose  ready  to  be  manned  and 
directed  against  the  fire.  A  "  truck,"  or  hook-and- 
ladder,  company  thunders  upon  the  scene,  with  its 
load  of  heavy  ladders  and  firemen's  implements, 
weighing  over  four  tons.  Dropping  from  it  as  it 
slows  up,  men  come  running  over  to  our  aid  armed 
with  axes  and  hooks,  ready  to  make  an  opening 
in  the  building  so  that  we  may  get  at  the  seat  of 
the  fire. 

The  watchman  of  the  factory  cannot  be  found. 


20 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


Our  foreman  shouts,  "  Quick !  the  battering-ram. 
Break  open  the  big  doors!" 

One  is  quickly  unshipped  from  its  place  under- 
neath the  truck,  and,  with  a  man  on  each  side,  at 
the  command  of  the  captain  the  ram  is  lunged 
forward  at  the  big  doors.  Crash!  —  the  doors 
quiver  under  the  impact  of  the  combined  weight 
of  the  solid  mass  of  iron  and  the  two  heavy  men. 
A  few  more  blows  and  the  locks  give  way,  the 
doors  fly  open,  and  into  the  black,  stifling  smoke 
we  force  our  way,  dragging  the  heavy  hose 
with  us. 

We  can  see  no  fire, —  nothing  but  thick,  dense 
smoke  choking  our  throats,  and  making  the  water 
run  from  our  eyes  in  streams.  Meanwhile  the 
men  from  the  truck-company  have  been  at  work 
with  the  butt-ends  of  their  axes,  and  have  broken 
open  the  deadlights  and  grating  in  the  front  over 
the  basement  and  the  basement  doors.  The  fire 
having  shown  up  there,  we  are  ordered  to  "back 
out"  and  "work  in"  the  basement  —  an  order 
easily  given,  but  not  so  easily  obeyed;  for  the 
smoke  is  now  thick  and  so  stifling  that  people 
in  the  crowd  on  the  other  side  of  the  street  are 
obliged  to  beat  a  quick  retreat  before  it.  But  we 
firemen  are  there  to  obey  commands,  not  to  ques- 
tion them,  and  down  we  go. 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


23 


A  shower  of  glass  greets  us  as  we  back  out,  for 
it  is  now  raining  glass  and  bits  of  the  window- 
frames  from  above.  Ladders  having  been  raised 
to  the  upper  floors,  the  truck-men  are  making  an 
opening  for  the  pipe-men  of  other  companies,  that 
they  may  be  on  hand  should  the  fire  get  above  the 
first  floor.  Another  shower,  this  time  of  red-hot 
plaster,  greets  us  as  we  work  our  way  into  the 
basement ;  and  the  fire,  now  spreading  all  over  the 
ceiling,  brings  more  down  around  us.  The  heat 
is  frightful  there,  and  we  turn  our  fire-hats  back 
foremost  to  protect  our  faces  as  best  we  can.  We 
slash  the  water  around,  knocking  over  burning 
beams  and  piles  of  packing-boxes,  the  hose  squirm- 
ing and  quivering  under  the  pressure  of  the  tons 
of  water  being  forced  through  it  every  minute : 
the  united  strength  of  three  or  four  men  is  re- 
quired to  control  it.  All  at  once  one  of  our  num- 
ber gives  a  gasp  and  tumbles  down  at  our  feet, 
face  forward,  in  a  pool  of  dirty  water  and  plaster, 
overcome  by  the  smoke  and  heat.  Another  drops 
his  hold  upon  the  hose  and  stoops  to  assist  his 
fallen  comrade.  It  is  now  red-hot  in  the  base- 
ment, and  we  cannot  breathe  much  longer.  If  we 
do  not  back  out  soon,  it  will  be  all  over  with  us ; 
but  firemen,  in  the  enthusiasm  and  excitement  of 


24 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


the  moment,  hate  to  retreat  until  actually  driven 
out,  so  we  still  hold  our  position.  At  last  we  can- 
not stand  it,  and  we  retreat  to  the  doorway. 

The  fireman  who  was  overcome,  assisted  by  one 
or  more  companions,  reaches  the  foot  of  the  stairs. 
A  battalion-chief  in  command  on  the  pavement 
above,  seeing  our  position,  shouts,  "  Here !  A 
man  hurt !  Down  in  the  basement !  "  In  a  second 
a  dozen  brave  fellows  dash  down  the  steps,  and, 
lifting  up  our  injured  comrade,  carry  him  tenderly 
up  to  the  street,  and  then  over  to  one  of  the  patrol- 
wagons,  where,  with  plenty  of  fresh  air  and  brisk 
rubbing,  he  is  soon  brought  to  his  senses. 

The  chief  follows  the  men  down  the  stairway, 
and,  giving  one  look  at  the  blazing  cellar,  says, 
"  This  is  too  hot  for  you ;  back  out,  quick ! "  We 
need  no  second  command,  but  get  up  the  stairway 
as  fast  as  we  can.  As  we  reach  the  foot  of  the 
stairs  in  our  retreat,  crash  !  comes  the  floor  down 
where  we  have  been  standing,  and  our  place  is 
taken  by  a  packed-in  mass  of  blazing  timbers.  A 
few  seconds  later,  and  we  might  have  been  under 
that  mass. 

The  water  is  now  all  directed  at  this  point,  and 
the  fire  in  this  part  of  the  building  is  slowly  con- 
quered.   It  has  reached  the  first  and  second  floors, 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


27 


however,  by  way  of  the  stairways  and  elevator- 
openings,  and  the  men  placed  there  to  receive  it 
are  having  a  hard  tussle,  and  although  they  are 
making  a  brave  fight,  it  is  gradually  getting  the 
better  of  them. 

Soon  they  too  are  forced  to  retreat  before  the 
mass  of  fire  that  slowly  drives  them  back,  for  the 
building  is  stored  with  inflammable  material,  and, 
getting  a  little  headway,  the  flames  spread  rapidly. 

Despite  all  their  efforts,  it  reaches  the  two  upper 
floors,  and  finding  no  vent,  it  spreads  over  the  ceil- 
ing of  the  top  floor,  and  breaks  from  the  front 
windows  with  renewed  vigor.  It  makes  a  more 
formidable  showing  here  than  it  did  in  the  cellar; 
but  we  have  the  force  ready  to  fight  with,  and  will 
make  short  work  of  it. 

Om*  foreman,  on  the  arrival  of  the  first  battalion- 
chief,  has  turned  the  command  over  to  him,  and 
the  chief  has  sent  out  additional  alarms,  second 
and  third.  We  now  have  massed  about  the  fire 
twelve  engine-companies,  foui'  truck-companies, 
about  four  chiefs,  a  deputy  chief  superintendent, 
a  chief  superintendent  (the  head  of  the  depart- 
ment), and  two  sections  of  the  Insurance  Patrol. 
The  Patrol  men  have  covered  up  the  office  furni- 
ture in  the  front  office  with  their  tarpaulins,  and 


28 


FIGHTING  A  FIKE 


are  ready  to  sav^e  additional  property  should  the 
fire  spread.  There  is  also  a  fuel-wagon  dashing 
here  and  there  among  the  engines,  to  supply  them 
with  coal.  In  all  there  are  about  two  hundred 
men  at  work. 

A  water-tower  too  has  arrived,  and  being  raised 
in  front  of  the  building,  at  the  outbreak  in  the 
upper  floors  it  is  immediately  put  to  work.  The 
streams  from  three  or  four  engines  are  fed  into 
the  supply-pipes  at  the  sides,  and  soon  a  steady 
stream  of  about  2000  or  2500  gallons  of  water  per 
minute  is  being  thrown  upon  the  flames — a  deluge 
that  no  body  of  fire  can  long  withstand. 

Companies  have  been  sent  to  the  rear  to  work 
in  from  the  next  street;  "rollers"  or  "hose- 
hoists  "  (a  device  used  on  the  roofs  or  cornices  of 
houses  to  protect  the  hose  when  it  is  pulled  up 
from  the  street,  to  prevent  their  cutting  it)  have 
been  placed  on  adjoining  houses,  and  lines  of  hose 
have  been  run  up  there  to  fight  the  fire  from  that 
point.  Short  ladders  have  also  been  pulled  up  to 
the  roofs  of  adjoining  buildings  and  raised  to  the 
side  windows;  and  lines  of  hose  are  put  to  work 
there.  "Cellar-pipes"  are  brought  into  play  to 
pour  streams  of  water  along  the  ceiling  of  the 
cellar.    Even  in  the  house  adjoining  the  one  on 


"HITTING  THE  FIRE." 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


31 


fire,  men  with  a  battering-ram  are  at  work  break- 
ing a  hole  through  the  foundation-wall,  so  that 
streams  of  water  may  be  directed  at  the  fire  from 
that  point,  to  drown  it  out. 

Men  from  the  truck-companies  have  been  work- 
ing on  the  roof,  at  the  outbreak  of  the  fire,  cutting 
it  open  that  the  smoke  and  gases  may  escape  and 
better  air  come  to  the  men  working  within  the 
building.  The  flames,  driven  back  from  the  front 
of  the  building,  find  these  openings  and  vent  their 
fury  through  them;  and,  the  massive  stream  of  the 
water-tower  beginning  to  tell  in  an  effective  man- 
ner, we  soon  have  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the 
last  squirming  flame  flicker  and  go  out  before  the 
deluge  of  water  that  is  being  poured  on  it  from 
all  points. 

Before  long  nothing  but  a  hissing,  smoldering 
mass  is  left.  The  ruin  is  thoroughly  soaked  and 
washed  down  before  the  tired  firemen  are  ordered 
to  "  shut  ofiy 

The  extra  companies  sent  for  by  the  last  two 
alarms  are  now  ordered  home,  and  the  dark  street 
is  full  of  men  in  long  rubber-coats  carrjdng  lan- 
terns. They  go  about  amid  the  twisted  labyrinth 
of  hose,  "disconnecting"  or  unscrewing  the  differ- 
ent sections  of  hose,  that  the  water  may  drain 


32 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


from  them  before  they  are  "  taken  up  "  and  rolled 
upon  the  reel  of  the  tender. 

Being  the  first  company  to  arrive,  we  are  the 
last  to  leave,  and  we  remain  until  with  men  from 
the  truck-company  we  thoroughly  go  over  the 
building  from  top  to  bottom,  tearing  down  door- 
jambs  and  window-casings,  and  pulling  up  parts 
of  the  floor  —  ''overhauling,"  as  it  is  called,  that 
no  unseen  ^avk  may  be  left  smoldering  to  break 
out  anew,  after  we  have  left;  for  the  battalion- 
chief  under  whose  command  we  are  now  working 
is  responsible  for  the  fii-e,  and  should  it  start  up 
again,  it  would  go  hard  with  him  before  the  com- 
missioners, by  whom  he  would  be  called  to  ac- 
count. 

Soon  we,  too,  are  "disconnecting,"  and  when 
the  different  sections  of  hose  have  been  hauled  up 
behind  the  tender,  we  screw  them  together  again 
and  they  are  wound  upon  the  reel,  being  pulled 
taut  over  the  iron  roller  at  the  back  part  as  they 
are  reeled  in.  This  thoroughly  squeezes  out  all 
the  remaining  water  from  them,  and  winds  the 
hose  evenly  on  the  reel. 

We  are  now  "rolling  home,"  dirty,  begrimed,  and 
partly  soaked,  and  followed  by  a  crowd  of  boys 
about  a  mile  long.    When  we  reach  the  engine- 


3 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


35 


house,  we  take  off  from  the  reel  all  the  lengths  of 
hose  we  have  used,  including  three  or  four  ad- 
ditional lengths  to  make  sure  of  getting  every 
length  that  contains  any  water.  The  wet  lengths 
are  hung  up  to  dry  in  a  long  shaft  in  the  engine- 
house  called  the  "hose-tower,"  while  dry  lengths 
take  their  places.  Water  left  in  the  hose  causes 
a  mildew  that  rots  and  destroys  it  very  quickly. 

We  wash  down  the  engine  and  tender;  a  new 
fire  is  made  ready  in  the  furnace  of  the  former ; 
the  horses  are  put  back  in  their  stalls,  and,  af- 
ter the  engine  and  tender  have  been  rolled  back 
to  their  respective  places  on  the  floor,  they  are 
brought  out  under  the  iron  framework  and  the 
swinging-harness  is  hoisted  into  place  again.  The 
clock  is  started  once  more  and  set  right;  the 
weight  is  again  placed  at  the  top  of  the  sliding- 
rod ;  the  lever  or  "  trip  "  at  the  bottom  is  set,  and 
the  horses  are  fastened  in  their  stalls. 

Then  the  captain  steps  up  to  the  telegraph-in- 
strument, and,  clicking  off  a  few  clicks,  informs 
headquarters  that  he  is  "  at  home  "  once  more,  and 
ready  to  receive  another  "  call." 


A  SCHOOL  FOR  FIREMEN 


THERE  is  perhaps  no  branch  of  the  public 
service  in  our  greater  cities  that  awakens 
such  a  responsive  chord  in  the  hearts  of  all  who  ad- 
mire bravery  and  daring,  as  the  Fire  Department. 

Because  of  our  peaceable  relations  with  foreign 
nations  we  do  not  require  a  large  standing-army, 
and  for  that  reason  there  are  fewer  soldiers  to 
admire  than  in  European  countries.  But  in  our 
brave  firemen,  ever  ready  to  respond  to  the  call 
for  help,  to  face  danger  and  perhaps  death  at 
any  moment,  we  find  a  class  worthy  of  hero-wor- 
ship, and  deserving  of  whatever  praise  they  may 
receive. 

The  rattle  and  dash  of  the  engines,  the  clanging 
of  the  bells,  and  the  mad  gallop  of  the  horses  on 
their  way  to  a  fire  are  always  exciting,  and  staid 
indeed  must  be  the  boy  or  man  who  can  resist  the 
temptation  to  follow  them  to  the  scene  of  action. 

36 


A  SCHOOL  FOR  FIREMEN 


37 


When  we  watch  the  men  work- 
ing at  a  fire,  occupying  most  per- 
ilous and  hazardous  positions,  on 
the  roofs  of  buildings  and  upon 
ladders,  suffering  tortures  from 
smoke  and  flames,  we  can  scarce 
suppress  exclamations  of  admi- 
ration for  the  daring  manner  in 
which  they  so  coolly  face  what 
seems  to  our  eyes  almost  certain 
death. 

Every  city  in  the  United  States 
shows  local  pride  in  its  firemen. 
Each  claims  that  its  department 
is  one  of  the  best,  if  not  the  best, 
in  the  country.  The  rivalry  be- 
tween some  of  the  cities  is  at 
times  quite  amusing,  and  there 
is  much  discussion  upon  the 
merits  of  their  own  firemen ;  but 
New  York  City  undoubtedly  oc- 
cupies to-day  the  enviable  posi- 
tion of  having,  all  things  con- 
sidered, the  most  thoroughly 
equipped  and  most  efficient  fire- 
service  in  the  world. 


A  CHAIN  OF  LADDERS. 


38 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


The  apparatus  is  of  the  best.  The  horses,  se- 
lected with  care  and  judgment,  are  magnificent 
animals ;  and  the  men,  picked  from  those  thought 
to  be  best  adapted  for  the  work  they  must  per- 
form, are  subjected  to  a  most  rigid  physical  ex- 
amination before  they  are  admitted  to  the  service, 
and  afterward  are  trained  in  a  school  of  instruc- 
tion at  Fire  Headquarters  that  is  complete  in 
itseK. 

A  description  of  this  school  will  no  doubt  be 
found  interesting,  for  it  is  mainly  due  to  the  effi- 
ciency of  this  branch  of  the  service  that  the  ¥ire 
Department  of  New  York  stands  to-day  at  the 
head  of  the  departments  of  the  world.  The  grad- 
uates of  this  school  are  a  hardy,  muscular  set  of 
men,  well  trained  in  the  perilous  work  that  they 
must  encounter  in  active  service.  They  are  not 
only  taught  how  to  handle  intelligently  all  the 
appliances  used  in  extinguishing  fires,  but — what 
is  more  important — they  receive  a  thorough  train- 
ing in  the  use  of  the  many  modern  devices  for 
saving  lives  at  fires.  The  numerous  heroic  rescues 
made  by  firemen  every  year  in  New  York  City 
bear  evidence  to  the  fact  that  the  instruction  they 
have  received  here  is  well  applied. 

The  school  was  organized  in  February,  1883, 


CLIMBING  "EN  ECHELON." 


A  SCHOOL  FOE  FIREMEN 


41 


primarily  for  the  purpose  of  instructing  the  men 
of  the  different  companies  in  the  use  of  the  "  scal- 
ing-ladder," which  had  then  just  been  introduced 
in  the  department.  It  gradually  became  enlarged 
in  its  scope,  however,  until,  with  the  completion 
of  the  new  Fire  Headquarters  building  in  January, 
1887,  it  became  a  general  school  of  instruction  — 
not  only  for  the  new  men  admitted  on  trial  (called 
"  probationary  firemen  "),  but  for  the  men  already 
in  service  —  in  the  use  of  all  life-saving  appara- 
tus, and  in  the  many  appliances  used  for  fighting 
a  fire. 

Before  they  had  this  new  building,  in  East  67th 
Street,  the  companies  were  taught  the  use  of  the 
scaling-ladders  and  "life-net"  at  an  old  sugar- 
warehouse  near  the  foot  of  West  158th  Street  and 
the  North  River,  and  here  the  classes  numbered 
nearly  sixty  men  at  a  time.  But  this  building  was 
in  an  out-of-the-way  place,  and  lacked  the  facil- 
ities necessary  for  instructing  the  men  in  raising 
large  extension-ladders,  and  in  the  use  of  the  many 
new  tools  then  being  added  to  the  department. 

When  the  new  Fire  Headquarters  building  was 
being  completed,  a  yard  designed  for  this  purpose 
was  built  at  the  back  of  that  building.  This  yard 
is  about  one  hundred  feet  square,  being  well  ce- 


42 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


mented  and  drained,  so  that  water  can  be  used  in 
the  lessons.  Here  "company  drills"  were  intro- 
duced—  companies  being  summoned  unexpectedly 
from  different  parts  of  the  city,  just  as  they  would 
be  called  to  an  actual  fire. 

When  they  arrived  the  engines  were  started  and 
the  men  put  through  all  the  manoeuvers  of  bat- 
tling with  the  flames.  The  hose  was  dragged  up 
the  staircase  to  the  top  of  the  building,  water  was 
started  or  shut  off,  and  large  quantities  were  used 
in  the  different  movements  executed  in  the  yard 
or  from  the  windows  at  the  rear.  The  men  were 
thus  made  acquainted  with  every  appliance  car- 
ried upon  the  apparatus,  and  the  system  was  per- 
fected in  every  detail. 

Companies  received  ratings  on  the  books  kept 
by  the  instructor  according  to  the  proficiency  they 
showed  at  the  drills ;  and  some  idea  of  what  effect 
these  drills  had  in  improving  the  service  may 
be  gathered  from  the  fact  that,  when  they  were 
started,  of  the  eighty  or  more  companies  in  the 
department  there  were  about  twenty-one  com- 
panies in  the  first  grade,  nineteen  in  the  second, 
and  forty  in  the  third  or  lowest  grade.  After 
three  years  of  instruction,  there  were  only  four  or 
five  in  the  last  grade,  about  fifteen  in  the  second, 


"BUILDING  A  CHAIN." 


A  SCHOOL  FOR  FIREMEN 


45 


and  fully  sixty  received^ the  rating  of  first-grade 
companies. 

It  is  here,  in  this  yard,  where  these  company 
drills  played  so  important  a  part  in  bringing  the 
New  York  department  to  its  present  point  of  per- 
fection, that  the  recruit  receives  his  first  instruc- 


THE  BELT,  SHOWING  THE  "SNAP"  HOOK  AND  HATCHET. 

tion  in  the  use  of  the  scaling-ladder,  the  life-line, 
and  the  life-net. 

After  the  new  fireman  has  passed  the  civil-ser- 
vice and  physical  examination  in  the  gymnasium 
on  the  fifth  floor  of  the  building,  he  is  put  into 
one  of  the  classes  drilling  in  the  yard,  and  gradu- 
ally "broken  in,"  being  taught  how  to  handle, 
raise,  and  balance  the  ladders  before  he  is  allowed 
to  use  them  at  all.    Since  the  ladders  weigh  from 


40 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


twenty  to  sixty-five  pounds,  and  are  from  fourteen 
to  twenty  feet  in  length,  it  can  be  seen  that  it  is 
not  easy  to  manage  them.  After  the  novice  has 
mastered  this,  his  opening  lesson,  he  is  allowed  to 
go  up  to  the  first  window,  and  then,  as  his  confi- 
dence increases,  to  the  second,  and  so  on  to  the 
top ;  but  he  is  kept  at  each  window  until  all  ner- 
vousness has  passed  away,  for  the  recruit  is  at 
first  very  nervous,  and,  as  the  instructor  laugh- 
ingly remarks,  "  You  can  hear  his  teeth  chattering 
a  block  away  ! " 

He  is  soon  skilful,  and  when  he  finds  he  can 
gain  the  fourth  and  fifth  story  with  comparative 
ease,  he  looks  down  upon  his  less  proficient  com- 
panions and  laughs  at  their  timidity. 

As  he  becomes  more  familiar  with  the  handling 
of  the  ladders,  he  is  taught  how  to  "build  a  chain'' 
—  a  line  of  ladders  from  the  street  to  the  roof, 
with  a  man  at  each  story.  In  this  drill,  when  the 
first  man  reaches  the  top  floor,  he  fastens  himself 
firmly  to  the  ladder  he  is  on,  by  means  of  a  large 
steel  "  snap  "  attached  to  a  stout  canvas  belt  which 
each  wears.  Then,  reaching  down,  he  brings  up 
another  ladder ;  and  as  he  passes  it  out  and  over 
a  cornice  projecting  some  three  feet  from  the 
building,  and,  releasing  himself  from  his  own  lad- 


USING  THE   SCALING-LADDER  — "STRADDLING  SILLS." 


A  SCHOOL  FOR  FIREMEN 


49 


der,  climbs  nimbly  up  this  frail-looking  affair, 
swinging  to  and  fro  in  mid-air,  the  looker-on 
almost  holds  his  breath,  and  does  n't  wonder  at  the 
"  teeth-chattering  "  referred  to  by  the  instructor  in 
his  remarks  on  the  school. 

This  exercise  is  not  indulged  in,  however,  until 
the  class  has  about  finished  its  course  at  the  school, 
and  all  are  thoroughly  proficient  in  handling  the 
ladders.  It  is  a  most  thrilling  and  exciting  drill 
to  watch,  and  you  cannot  help  a  throb  of  admi- 
ration for  the  nerve  and  pluck  of  men  who  per- 
form it. 

"  Straddling  sills "  is  the  next  instruction  the 
fireman  receives.  In  this  drill  he  sits  astride  a 
window-sill,  and,  holding  himself  in  place  by  the 
pressure  of  his  knees  against  the  sides,  he  puUs  up 
a  ladder,  and,  carefully  balancing  it,  passes  its 
hook  into  the  window  above.  Then  climbing  to 
that  tvindow,  he  goes  through  the  same  manoeu- 
ver,  and  so  on  to  the  top,  and  then  down  again. 

By  this  movement  one  man  with  one  ladder 
could  reach  any  floor  in  a  burning  structure,  and 
by  letting  down  a  small  rope  that  he  carries  in  his 
belt,  haul  up  a  "roof -line," — that  is,  a  heavier  rope, 
— and  thus  lower  a  number  of  people  to  safety. 

Then  comes  "  standing  on  sills."    This  drill  re- 


50 


FIGHTING  A  FIKE 


quires  two  men.  One,  standing  on  the  sill  of  a 
window,  is  held  firmly  in  place  by  another  inside 
the  window  who  pulls  stoutly  upon  the  steel  snap 
in  his  belt.  The  outside  man  reaches  down,  and, 
pulling  up  the  ladder,  places  it  in  the  window 
above.  Both  then  climb  up,  and  their  positions 
are  reversed.  They  are  kept  at  these  different 
exercises  until  they  can  perform  each  quickly 
and  without  any  hitch,  and  they  leave  the  school 
trained  in  every  way. 

To  vary  the  monotony  of  the  ladder  drills,  be- 
tween lessons  the  men  are  taught  how  to  come 
down  a  rope  alone,  or  to  bring  a  person  with  them. 
Two  turns  of  the  roof-line  are  taken,  inside  and 
around  the  steel  snap  on  the  belt,  which  exei-t 
enough  friction  to  act  as  a  brake,  and  with  a  slight 
pressure  of  the  hand  on  the  rope  below  the  snap, 
the  fireman  can  perfectly  control  the  speed  of  de- 
scent. Four  turns  are  taken  if  they  have  to  bring 
a  person  down  with  them. 

Next  in  the  series  is  found  a  movement  that  re- 
quires a  cool  head  and  plenty  of  nerve  on  the  part 
of  the  recruit.  It  is  known  as  climbing  "  en  eche- 
lon." He  hooks  his  ladder  in  a  window  at  one  side 
of  the  one  just  above  him,  and,  while  the  ladder 
swings  like  a  pendulum  into  its  place,  he  climbs 


STANDIXG  ON  SILLS." 


A  SCHOOL  FOR  FIREMEN 


53 


up.  Though  this  appears  a  risky  feat,  and  one 
that  needs  considerable  confidence  and  proficiency, 
it  is  a  valuable  accomplishment.  Should  the  fire- 
man in  actual  service  attempt  to  rescue  one  from 
the  upper  part  of  a  building,  and  find  above  him 
a  window  so  charged  with  flame  that  he  cannot 
enter,  it  is  by  this  feat  that  he  passes  up  and 
around  that  window  and  thus  reaches  by  a  round- 
about course  the  floors  above. 

When  the  life-net  is  brought  out  and  held  by 
fifteen  or  twenty  of  his  companions,  the  recruit  is 
taught  how  to  jump  into  this  last  resort  of  the  life- 
saving  corps,  and  —  what  is  more  important  —  he 
himself  learns  how  to  hold  it  in  turn  to  receive 
one  of  his  companions. 

The  net  is  of  rope,  circular  and  woven  from  a 
central  ring.  The  strands  radiate  regularly  from 
this  center  to  the  different  handles  attached  to  the 
rim  or  edge  so  as  to  equalize  the  strain  when  a 
body  strikes  the  net. 

When  fii^emen  jump  they  are  taught  to  come 
down  in  such  a  way  that  by  throwing  their  feet 
out  they  may  land  in  a  sitting  position.  Landing 
in  this  manner,  they  escape  the  possibility  of  their 
legs  or  arms  going  through  the  net  and  being 
injured  by  striking  the  ground  —  a  point  that 


54 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


is  not  out  of  place  for  every  one  to  know. 
Each  member  of  the  party  takes  a  turn  at 
jumping  into  and  at  holding  the  net;  and  by 
this  means  there  is  no  shirking  or  carelessness  in 
performing  that  part  of  the  lessons,  for  every 
pupil  knows  that  his  turn  to  jump  will  come 
sooner  or  later,  and  the  application  of  the  "  golden 
rule "  is  brought  forcibly  to  his  mind.  Each  man 
is  very  particular  to  do  his  share  of  the  work  with 
painstaking  care  and  attention.  As  the  instructor 
put  it :  "I  make  each  man  jump  into  the  net,  and 
then  there 's  no  '  playing  soldier '  in  holding  it  — 
no,  sir ! " 

In  holding  the  net,  the  men  brace  themselves 
with  one  foot  forward,  and,  bringing  the  arms  up, 
half  bent,  they  grasp  the  handles  of  the  net  firmly 
in  each  hand,  thus  bringing  the  rim  or  outer  edge 
of  the  net  about  on  a  level  with  their  shoulders, 
and  as  high  as  it  can  possibly  be  kept  from  the 
ground.  They  then  watch  for  the  descending 
body,  and  as  it  is  about  to  strike  they  all  stretch 
together ;  the  arms,  being  half  bent,  act  as  springs, 
and  bring  the  strain  of  the  falling  body  on  the 
muscles  of  their  upper  arms.  Were  they  to  stand 
with  their  arms  stretched  out  straight,  the  shock 
would  be  so  great  that  it  would  pull  them  off  their 


A  SCHOOL  FOR  FIREMEN 


57 


feet,  and  might  pitch  them  head  first  into  the  net 
themselves. 

They  are  taught  not  only  how  to  hold  the  net, 
but  how  to  hold  it  correctly  and  yet  be  able  to 
move  quickly  about  in  an}^  direction,  so  that  they 
may  catch  a  person  falling  or  jumping  from  any 
window,  and  may  receive  him  exactly  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  net.  This  is  most  important,  for  at  a 
fire  the  smoke  might  be  so  thick  that  the  one 
jumping  could  not  see  the  net,  nor  those  holding 
it  be  able  to  see  the  body  descending.  In  order  to 
prepare  them  for  such  an  emergency,  a  dummy  of 
about  the  weight  of  the  average  person  is  used. 
This  is  thrown  from  different  heights,  at  a  signal 
from  the  instructor,  and  usually  in  a  direction  dif- 
ferent from  that  expected  by  the  men. 

It  is  estimated  that  this  dummy,  weighing  some 
150  pounds,  when  thrown  from  the  sixth  floor, 
strikes  the  net  with  a  force  of  1750  pounds.  It 
can  be  seen,  therefore,  that  considerable  strength 
must  be  exerted  to  keep  a  body  weighing  that 
much  from  striking  the  ground  when  jumping 
from  so  great  a  height.  They  have  to  jump  about 
in  a  lively  way  to  catch  it,  and  if  it  does  not  land 
exactly  in  the  middle  of  the  net,  or  if  it  strikes 
the  ground,  they  get  a  sound  lectuiing  by  the  in- 


58 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


structor,  and  are  kept  at  it  until  they  are  able  to 
catch  it  exactly  in  the  middle  of  the  net,  and  with- 
out any  failures. 

This  practically  finishes  the  recruit's  lessons  in 
the  yard.  On  rainy  days,  or  when  it  is  too  cold 
to  work  outdoors,  he  is  taken  to  the  gymnasium 
on  the  fifth  floor,  and  there  learns  to  handle  the 
many  devices  used  in  the  department. 

He  is  taught  how  to  "  couple "  and  "  uncouple " 
(disconnect)  hose ;  how  to  put  into  service  "  cellar  " 
and  "sub-cellar"  pipes  for  fighting  cellar  fires;  and 
the  use  of  the  "  tin-cutter  "  for  opening  roofs.  He 
learns  about  the  battering-rams,  axes,  and  hooks, 
and  the  hundred  and  one  other  appliances  carried 
upon  the  hose-wagons  and  trucks. 

Wlien  his  course  in  the  school  is  finished,  and  he 
has  received  a  percentage  high  enough  to  qualify 
him,  he  is  "passed"  by  the  instructor,  and  as- 
signed to  some  company  in  the  service  —  usually 
to  one  in  a  busy  district  where  he  will  have  plenty 
of  experience.  Then  his  actual  life  as  a  fireman 
begins — an  experience  fraught  with  many  dangers. 

But  it  is  rarely  that  we  find  our  firemen  "  losing 
their  heads";  and  although  raising  a  scaling-ladder 
to  rescue  some  one  amid  the  confusion  and  smoke 
of  an  actual  fire  is  not  at  all  like  practice  in  the 


CATCHING   A   MAN    IN    TlIK  "LIFK-NET." 


A  SCHOOL  FOR  FIREMEN 


61 


quiet  yard  at  headquarters,  with  a  great  big  net 
stretched  underneath  to  catch  them  should  they 
fall,  yet  they  are  always  ready  and  anxious  to  per- 
form such  a  duty.  Knowing  this,  the  people  of  a 
great  city  like  New  York  may  well  be  grateful  to 
the  graduates  of  this  excellent  school  for  firemen. 


AN  ALARM  OF  FIRE  BY  TELEGRAPH 


4N  alarm  of  fire  by  telegraph ! " 

How  much  these  few  words  suggest  to 
the  mind:  the  fright,  the  confusion,  the  destruc- 
tion of  property,  and  the  possible  loss  of  life ;  the 
puffing  engines  and  the  shouting  men,  the  crash- 
ing of  glass  and  the  splashing  of  water,  and,  per- 
haps, finally  the  smoldering  remains  of  a  once 
comfortable  home  laid  waste  by  nature's  most  de- 
structive element  —  fire. 

All  this  is  mentally  pictured  when  we  read  the 
little  technical  phrase  found  in  the  daily  ledger 
kept  in  every  engine-house  in  New  York  City. 

This  book,  known  as  the  "house- journal,"  con- 
tains a  record  of  all  alarms  of  fire  received, 
whether  they  are  fires  to  which  this  particular 
company  is  called  or  not,  and  the  exact  moment 
that  they  were  received. 

The  movements  of  the  officers  and  men  are  also 


AN  ALARM  OF  FIRE  BY  TELEGRAPH 


63 


recorded  here,  the  hour  and  mmute  of  their  leav- 
ing quarters  each  day  for  meals,  and  the  time  of 
their  return;  and  an  entry  is  made  of  any  event 
pertaining  to  the  workings  of  the  department  to 
which  it  may  be  necessary  to  refer  at  another  time. 

If  we  look  over  the  pages  of  one  of  these  house- 
journals,  we  shall  come  to  an 
inscription  in  red  ink,  reading 
like  this : 

6.15  p.  M. :  Rec'd  an  alarm  by  tele- 
graph from  Station  448. 


This  is  an  alarm  that  has 
come  over  the  wires,  but  from 
a  box  to  which  this  particular 
company  is  not  called. 

In  this  memorandum  448  is 
the  number  of  the  fire-alarm 
box  from  which  the  alarm  was 
sent  —  they  are  known  tech- 
nically as  "stations." 

This  inscription  is  unsatisfac- 
tory and  disappointing,  for  if 
we  are  interested  we  wish  to 
know  more  about  the  fire  and 
what  happened  there,  so  turn- 


A  STREET  BOX. 
SENDING  IN  AN  ALARM. 


64 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


ing  back  a  few  pages  we  come  to  another  entry 
that  is  more  explanatory.  It  reads  somewhat  like 
the  following : 

10.45  A.  M. :  Rec'd  an  alarm  of  fire  by  telegraph  from 
Station  357. 

Proceeded  with  apparatus  to  double  hydrant  in  front 
of  No.  150  W,  16th  St.,  and  ascertained  fire  to  be  at  No. 
143  West  16th  St. 

Reported  to  Chief  of  7th  Batt.,  and  was  by  him  ordered 
to  stretch  hne  into  basement  of  house,  where  a  IJ-inch 
stream  was  kept  10  minutes. 

Company^s  services  being  no  longer  required,  was  or- 
dered to  return  to  quarters.  The  following  officers  and 
men  accompanied  apparatus :    .    .  . 

Then  comes  a  list  of  the  officers  and  men  going 
to  the  fire,  and  of  those  who  were  absent,  and  a 
statement  of  why  each  one  was  absent,  for  a  fire- 
man is  held  accountable  for  every  moment  of  time 
while  he  is  on  duty,  and  his  superior  officer  must 
know  at  all  times  when  he  is  at  a  fire ;  and  if  he  is 
not,  the  cause  of  his  not  being  there.  The  above 
entry,  like  the  other,  is  made  in  red  ink,  for  all 
records  of  fires  are  made  in  that  color,  to  separate 
them  from  the  ordinary  routine  work,  which  is  in- 
scribed in  black. 


AN  ALAEM  OF  FIRE  BY  TELEGRAPH 


65 


Few  people  living  in  our  large  cities,  with  the 
exception  of  those  actively  interested  in  fire  mat- 
ters, know  what  careful  records  are  kept  of  all 
fires,  large  or  small,  or  how  the  movements  of 
every  company  can  be 
traced  from  the  moment 
they  leave  their  house  in 
answer  to  an  alarm,  until 
their  return,  even  to  the 
smallest  fraction  of  time. 
With  the  aid  of  the  book 
I  have  just  mentioned,  and 
another  one  called  the  "  Fire 
Record  Journal,"  it  is  possi- 
ble to  trace  any  particular 
fire, —  to  find  out  the  exact 
moment  the  alarm  was  re- 
ceived for  it;  about  how 
long  it  took  the  company 

to  respond  ;   where  the  hy-    opening  the  outer  door  and  for 

sending  an  alarm. 

drant  was   situated  from 

which  they  got  their  water ;  how  many  lengths  of 
hose  were  used ;  how  long  the  water  was  kept  on 
the  fire;  how  many  gallons  of  water  were  con- 
sumed (approximately),  and  many  other  details. 
In  a  busy  season,  when  fires  are  plenty,  there  is 

5 


66 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


as  much  clerical  work  required  in  the  different 
engine-houses,  to  keep  these  books  in  order,  as 
there  would  be  in  taking  care  of  the  books  of  a 
large  business  firm. 

Now,  let  us  trace  or  follow  up  this  particular 
alarm  of  fire  from  station  357  and  find  out  why  it 
was  sent  out,  and  how  it  was  conveyed  to  the  fire- 
men, and  how  they  received  it.  This  leads  us  into 
the  mysteries  of  the  "  Fire  Alarm  Telegraph  Sys- 
tem,'^ without  Avhich  the  science  of  fire-fighting  to- 
day—  no  matter  how  quick  the  horses,  no  matter 
how  complete  the  apparatus,  and  no  matter  how 
eager  the  men  to  respond  —  would  be  utterly  in- 
adequate. 

We  will  begin  by  examining  the  street  boxes,  or 
"  stations,"  as  they  are  called,  since  it  is  from  them 
that  the  alarm  is  first  sent.  They  are  found  on 
almost  every  other  corner  in  New  York  City,  or^ 
at  least,  within  three  or  four  blocks  of  one  another. 
As  practically  every  city  or  town  of  any  size  in 
the  United  States  has  the  same  sort  of  boxes,  most 
readers  are  probably  well  acquainted  with  them, 
so  we  will  examine  only  the  "  keyless  box,"  that  is 
used  extensively  in  New  York  City. 

This  box  forms  part  of  a  lamp-post,  the  post 
being  so  constructed  that  the  box  is  inserted  in 


AN  ALARM  OF  FIRE  BY  TELEGRAPH 


07 


the  middle.  The  box  is  painted  a  bright  red, 
and  the  lamp  at  night  shows  a  red  light,  thus 
making  it  easily  dis- 
cernible either  by 
day  or  night.  The 
wires  from  the  box 
are  conveyed  down 
through  the  center 
of  the  post  to  con- 
duits buried  in  the 
street,  and  thence  on 
to  fire  headquarters. 

Wliite  letters  on  a 
red  pane  of  glass,  in 
the  lamp  over  the 
box,  give  directions 
how  to  send  an  alarm, 
—  the  same  direc- 
tions in  raised  letters 
are  found  on  the  face 
of  the  box.  If  we  turn  the  large  brass  handle  on 
the  outside  as  far  as  it  will  go,  a  loud  gong  will  ring- 
inside.  This  is  not  the  alarm,  but  simply  a  warn- 
ing bell  to  notify  the  policeman  on  the  beat  that 
the  box  is  being  opened  and  to  prevent  the  send- 
ing in  of  malicious  or  false  alarms  of  fire,  an  of- 


—  e.-r-M- 


KETLESS  BOX,  OPENED. 

Showing  the  inner  door,  and  hook. 


68 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


fense  that  is  punishable  in  New  York  State  by  a 
fine  of  $100  and  one  year's  imprisonment.  Turn- 
ing this  handle  as  far  as  it  will  go  opens  the  outer 
door,  and  we  find  inside  another  door,  with  a  slot 
at  the  left-hand  side,  and  at  the  top  of  this  slot  a 
hook  projecting.    By  pulling  down  this  hook  once 

and  releasing  it,  we 
set  at  work  certain 
clock-work  mechan- 
ism inside,  and  this 
sends  in  the  alarm. 

When  the  first  of- 
ficer arriving  at  a 
fire  discovers  that  it 
is  of  enough  impor- 
tance to  warrant  his 
sending  for  rein- 
forcements, he  opens 
this  inner  door  and 
with  the  "  Morse 
key"  to  be  found  in- 

The  inner  door  opened,  showing  the  cam  .                            t  ■ 

or  lever  that  operates  the  clockwork,  and  side  he  prOCCCQS  at 

the  Morse  key  and  sounder  for  sending  tele-  ^ 

graph  messages  to  headquarters.  OUCC    tO    Seud   in  a 

second,  third,  fourth,  fifth,  or  sixth  alarm,  as  the 
case  may  be,  or  a  call  for  any  special  apparatus 
that  he  may  need.    The  inspectors  of  boxes  can 


KEYLESS  BOX,  INSIDE. 


AN  ALARM  OF  FIRE  BY  TELEGRAPH  09 


also  carry  on  a  conversation  in  the  Morse  alphabet 
with  the  operator  at  headquarters  on  this  key 
and  sounder,  so  we  find  each  box  a  miniatm^e  tele- 
graph station  in  itself. 

Let  us  examine  the  causes  that  led  to  the  send- 
ing in  of  an  alarm  from  box  357,  and  also  what 
follows  the  pulling  of  the  hook  in  one  of  these 
lamp-post  boxes. 

A  pan  of  grease  frying  on  the  kitchen  range  in 
the  basement  of  a  house  in  West  Sixteenth  Street 
boils  over  and  sets  fire  to  the  floor.  The  servants, 
discovering  the  kitchen  in  flames,  run  screaming 
from  the  house.  The  owner,  who  happens  to  be 
up-stairs  at  the  time,  runs  down,  and  seeing  the 
light  of  fire  reflected  on  the  basement  stairs,  he 
dashes  for  the  nearest  fire-alarm  box  to  send  in 
an  alarm.  This  box  happens  to  be  on  the  corner 
of  Sixteenth  Street  and  Seventh  Avenue,  half  a 
block  away. 

Turning  the  handle  around,  he  opens  the  outer 
door,  the  warning  bell  rings,  he  pulls  down  the 
hook  on  the  inside  door  once,  and,  releasing  it, 
listens.  What  does  he  hear!  The  buzzing  of 
machinery  at  first,  and  then  "  ting,  ting,  ting ! "  on 
a  little  bell  inside.  A  pause,  and  "  ting,  ting,  ting, 
ting,  ting !  "    Another  pause,  and  then  "  ting,  ting^ 


70 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


ting,  ting,  ting,  ting,  ting !  "  —  357,  the  number  of 
the  box. 

This  is  repeated  five  times  in  quick  succession, 
and  then  the  buzzing  stops.  The  alarm  has  been 
sent.  It  may  seem  like  an  age  to  the  owner  of 
the  burning  premises  as  he  stands  there  waiting 
for  the  firemen  to  appear,  but  it  is  a  matter  of 
only  a  few  seconds;  for  within  twenty  seconds 
this  station  number  is  ringing  in  a  score  or  more 
of  engine-houses,  and  within  one  minute  and  a 
half  after  he  releases  the  hook  six  companies  of 
apparatus  are  on  their  way  to  this  box. 

One  minute  has  elapsed  since  he  opened  the 
box, —  now  a  minute  and. a  half. 

He  looks  up  and  down  the  avenue,  and  what 
does  he  see ! 

Turning  into  Seventh  Avenue  at  the  intersec- 
tion of  G-reenwich  Avenue,  five  blocks  to  the  south 
of  where  he  stands,  a  fire-engine  appears,  drawn 
by  three  plunging  gray  horses.  As  it  straightens 
out  in  the  broad  avenue,  they  dash  madly  toward 
where  he  stands.  A  hose-wagon  follows,  filled 
with  sturdy  men  donning  rubber  coats  and  fire- 
hats.  The  bells  of  both  engine  and  wagon  are 
ringing  furiously,  and  the  whistle  of  the  former 
keeps  up  a  series  of  short  shrieks. 


AN  ALARM  OF  FIRE  BY  TELEGRAPH  73 

It  is  truly  an  inspiring  sight,  and  lie  almost  for- 
gets the  destruction  that  threatens  his  home  in  the 
excitement  of  the  scene. 

As  he  looks  up  the  avenue  he  sees  approaching 
from  Twentieth  Street,  four  blocks  to  the  north, 
another  apparatus  —  a  heavy  affair  that  sways 
from  side  to  side  as  it  swings  from  one  car-track 
to  another.  This  is  a  "  truck  "  or  hook-and-ladder 
company,  and  it  is  preceded  by  a  light  wagon 
containing  two  men,  one  driving,  while  the  other 
looks  eagerly  ahead  for  the  appearance  of  fire. 
This  is  the  chief  of  the  7th  Battalion,  who  after- 
ward has  charge  of  the  fire.  Whistles  and  bells 
in  the  two  adjoining  streets  to  the  north  of  him 
tell  of  the  approach  of  more  engines.  One  is  com- 
ing from  the  east,  the  other  from  the  west.  The 
engine  approaching  from  the  east  turns  the  corner 
of  Eighteenth  Street,  two  blocks  above,  just  as  the 
one  coming  from  the  south  is  over  a  block  away. 
It  is  now  a  mad  race  between  the  two  to  see  which 
will  first  reach  the  box.  The  one  approaching 
from  the  south  has  the  advantage  of  a  clear  run 
up  the  avenue,  however,  and  arrives  at  the  corner 
before  the  other.  The  man  at  the  box  indicates 
by  pointing  to  his  home  the  location  of  the  fire, 
and  the  driver  of  this  engine,  who  knows  the  hy- 


74 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


drants  in  his  district  as  well  as  he  knows  the  sta- 
tions, turns  the  corner  on  a  run  and  pulls  his 
horses  up  beside  a  hydrant  nearly  opposite  the 
fire. 

Another  truck  company  has  followed  this  first 
appearing  engine,  also  coming  from  the  south. 
Another  battalion  chief  has  turned  the  corner  of 
Fourteenth  Street,  coming  from  the  east,  and  fol- 
lowing him  a  strange-looking  apparatus  —  a  four- 
wheeled  wagon,  carrying  what  one  might  almost 
call  an  enormous  cannon  with  an  inverted  muzzle: 
this  is  a  "  water-tower."  Still  another  detachment 
dashes  toward  the  box  from  the  north.  This 
is  a  big  red  wagon  drawn  by  two  noble  animals 
that  are  covering  the  ground  with  great  leaps.  It 
is  filled  with  men  wearing  white  rubber  coats  and 
red  fire-hats.  This  is  a  section  of  the  fire-insur- 
ance patrol,  and  they  come  to  protect  property 
from  damage  by  water,  and  to  save  what  they  can. 
The  third  engine,  coming  from  the  west,  follows 
and  pulls  up  at  a  hydrant  on  the  corner,  and 
"awaits  orders." 

The  first  company  to  arrive  have  rushed  into 
the  basement  with  their  hose.  The  engine  is  at 
work  in  an  instant,  and  a  few  dashes  of  water  ex- 
tinguish the  fire.    The  fire-insurance  patrolmen 


AN  ALARM  OF  FIRE  BY  TELEGRAPH  77 

go  through  the  building,  opening  windows  to  let 
the  smoke  escape,  and  ascertain  the  amount  of 
damage  done.  Members  of  the  first  truck  com- 
pany to  arrive  assist  the  men  from  the  engine 
company  in  putting  out  any  remaining  traces  of 
fire,  by  pulling  down  woodwork,  plaster,  etc.,  in 
the  kitchen.  The  other  companies  stand  ready  to 
get  to  work  until  ordered  "to  quarters"  by  the 
battalion  chief;  and  soon  there  is  little  evidence 
of  a  fire  beyond  a  wet  pavement  and  a  badly 
wrecked  kitchen. 

In  reviewing  the  events  that  have  followed  the 
pulling  of  the  hook  in  this  box,  we  find  that  within 
three  minutes  from  the  time  the  alarm  was  sent 
in,  an  engine  and  a  truck  company  were  on  hand. 
In  two  minutes  more  three  other  companies  had 
arrived,  and  in  exactly  seven  minutes  from  the 
instant  the  hook  was  pulled  down,  three  engine 
companies,  two  hook-and-ladder  companies,  a  wa- 
ter-tower, and  a  section  of  the  fire-patrol,  with 
two  battalion  chiefs,  were  on  the  spot,  and  ready 
to  go  to  work.  In  all,  about  fifty-five  men,  with 
ten  pieces  of  apparatus  —  a  small  fire  department 
in  itself. 

This  is  not  remarkable ;  for  if  we  consider  that 
there  are,  on  an  average,  from  ten  to  fifteen  alarms 


78 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


of  fire  a  day  in  New  York  City,  we  can  realize 
what  an  ordinary  event  this  becomes.  It  is  partly 
due  to  the  efficiency  of  the  fire-alarm  telegraph 
system  that  this  rapid  concentration  of  fire  forces 
is  possible.  Let  us  visit  fire  headquarters  in  East 
Sixty-seventh  Street,  and  see  how  the  alarms  are 
received  and  sent  out. 

We  find  the  telegraph  bureau  a  large,  well- 
lighted  room  on  the  sixth  floor  of  the  building. 
In  the  middle  of  this  room  is  a  raised  platform, 
perhaps  a  foot  in  height ;  and  this  platform  is  sur- 
rounded on  three  sides  by  cabinet-work,  almost 
like  immense  bookcases,  and  reaching  nearly  to 
the  ceiling.  A  passageway  on  both  sides  of  this 
cabinet-work  makes  the  back  easily  accessible; 
and  an  entrance  through  the  middle  leads  to  the 
battery-room  in  the  rear  of  the  bureau.  There  is 
a  post  in  the  center  of  this  passageway  studded 
with  "push-buttons,"  and  within  this  three-sided 
inclosm^e  are  the  various  delicate  and  intricate 
machines  for  receiving  and  recording  the  alarms, 
most  of  the  instruments  being  protected  from  in- 
jury or  dust  by  cases  of  glass. 

The  face  of  the  cabinet-work  on  both  sides  is 
filled  with  keys,  sounders,  switches,  and  all  man- 
ner of  electrical  devices  for  receiving  and  trans- 


AN  ALARM  OF  FIRE  BY  TELEGRAPH  81 

mitting  alarms  of  fii'e,  and  all  the  private  telegraph 
signals  used  in  the  work  of  the  fire  department. 

An  operator  comes  forward,  and  under  his  guid- 
ance we  will  look  into  the  methods  of  attending 
to  a  most  important  branch  of  the  fire  service — 
that  of  receiving  and  recording  an  alarm  of  fire 
from  a  street  box,  and  transmitting  the  same  to 
the  engine  companies  nearest  to  the  fire,  in  the 
shortest  possible  time.  We  are  first  to  see  the 
"register,"  or  machine  that  records  the  alarm  as 
it  comes  in  from  the  street  box.  This  machine 
not  only  indicates  the  pulling  of  a  fire-alarm  box 
by  clicking  off  the  number  of  the  station,  but 
prints  it  upon  an  endless  tape  of  paper  about  a 
foot  wide. 

We  find  a  station  recorded  thus  : 

■7  ----  -------  Station  147. 

1       4  / 

If  we  examine  this  machine  closely  we  shall 
find  five  oblong  vulcanite  (or  hard-rubber)  cases 
back  of  that  part  that  does  the  printing.  Each  of 
these  little  cases  contains  ten  sounders,  and  each 
sounder  represents  a  circuit.  There  are  from  ten 
to  fifty  boxes  on  each  circuit,  so  that  this  machine 
records  the  alarms  from  over  a  thousand  boxes! 

6 


82 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


A  delicate  steel  rod  connects  each  sounder  with 
a  little  brass  elbow- joint  that  does  the  printing, 
somewhat  like  the  key  of  a  type-writing  machine. 
As  each  click  or  pulsation  of  electricity  comes 
through  a  sounder,  this  little  rod  is  pulled  back. 
It  depresses  the  elbow- joint,  and  this  prints  a  dash 
upon  the  paper.  There  are  fifty  of  these  little 
elbow-joints  all  in  a  line,  one  for  each  circuit,  so 
that  boxes  on  different  circuits  print  upon  differ- 
ent parts  of  the  paper. 

We  can  better  understand  a  "  circuit "  if  we  im- 
agine a  long  wire  reaching,  say,  to  the  Battery  — 
five  miles  away  —  and  returning  to  headquarters. 
Branch  wires  running  from  this  main  line  connect 
with  boxes  at  different  places  along  the  way.  No 
two  adjacent  boxes  are  put  on  the  same  circuit. 
Thus  we  find  a  circuit  connected  with  a  box  at 
Fifty-eighth  Street  and  Broadway,  and  the  next 
box  on  the  same  line  is  at  Forty-sixth  Street 
and  Eighth  Avenue,  twelve  blocks  away.  This 
is  to  prevent  the  possibility  of  two  boxes  on  the 
same  circuit,  or  wire,  being  pulled  at  once  for 
the  same  fire. 

This  delicate  and  ingenious  instrument  prevents 
the  possibility  of  confusion  of  this  kind  occurring, 
for  even  if  two  stations  were  to  "  click  "  off  at  the 


AN  ALARM  OF  FIRE  BY  TELEGRAPH  85 

same  time,  although  it  might  not  be  possible  to 
count  the  clicks,  the  numbers  of  the  boxes,  being 
on  different  circuits,  will  be  found  printed  clear 
and  distinct  on  different  parts  of  the  paper.  The 
operator,  divining  that  both  have  been  pulled  for 
the  same  fire,  sends  out  only  one  on  the  combina- 
tion key. 

In  an  earlier  part  of  the  book,  I  have  described 
the  instruments  in  the  engine-houses  and  the  work 
that  they  perform,  but  I  will  repeat  part  of  that 
description,  that  we  may  better  understand  the 
methods  employed  in  sending  out  an  alarm  after 
it  has  been  received  on  the  register. 

In  every  engine-house  there  is  a  small  bell  that 
begins  to  ring  off  the  alarm  as  it  comes  in.  This 
is  called  the  "  combination,"  because  it  not  only 
tells  the  number  of  the  box,  but  it  allows  a 
weight  to  fall  that  springs  a  "  trip,"  or  lever,  which 
in  tui*n  releases  the  horses.  Shortly  after  this 
begins,  a  very  large  gong  rings  out  the  station 
number  in  loud  strokes.  Should  the  firemen  fail 
to  count  the  strokes  of  the  small  bell,  they  cannot 
fail  to  count  those  of  the  big  gong.  In  the  illus- 
tration on  page  5  the  "combination,"  the  "trip," 
and  the  big  gong  will  be  found  assembled  in  their 
relative  positions. 


86 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


We  will  now  go  back  to  the  telegraph  bureau 
and  see  how  these  strokes  are  sent  to  the  engine- 
houses.  We  will  first  look  at  another  instrument 
or  two  before  we  imagine  an  alarm  to  come  in, 
that  we  may  better  understand  what  is  being 
done. 

All  along  the  side  where  the  register  stands  are 
a  number  of  telegraph  keys,  one  for  every  circuit 
—  sixty  in  all,  there  being  ten  extra  circuits  be- 
sides those  connected  with  the  register.  They  are 
similar  to  the  keys  in  every  telegraph  office.  In 
the  corner,  on  the  same  side,  there  are  eight  extra 
keys.  These  operate  the  "combination  circuits," 
the  engine-houses  being  on  circuits  just  as  the 
boxes  are.  With  these  the  operator  rings  the  com- 
bination bell  that  I  have  just  described.  Above 
each  there  is  a  large  push-button  not  unlike  a  stop 
in  an  organ.  A  number  is  on  the  face  of  each, 
and  they  represent  the  circuits  controlled  by  the 
keys.  A  large  hand-lever  also  is  here,  which 
throws  on  an  extra  heavy  current  of  electricity 
whenever  it  is  necessary  to  use  these  circuits,  a 
light  current  only  being  kept  on  them  at  all  other 
times. 

Toward  the  front  of  the  platform,  and  near  the 
right-hand  side  of  the  inclosure,  stands  another 


AN  ALARM  OF  FIRE  BY  TELEGRAPH  89 

machine,  a  most  important  one.  It  stands  upon 
a  cabinet  or  pedestal  of  its  own,  and  this  machine, 
called  "the  repeater,"  controls  the  ringing  of  the 
big  gongs  in  the  engine-houses.  It  is  carefully 
inclosed  in  a  glass  case  on  all  sides  except  that 
facing  the  register.  Here  there  is  a  small  round 
opening  near  the  bottom,  through  which  projects 
the  shaft  of  one  of  the  larger  wheels  of  the  ma- 
chine. A  brass  disk,  or  "button,"  is  pushed  on 
this  shaft  when  an  alarm  is  being  sent  out,  and 
this  button  controls  the  number  of  strokes  that 
this  instrument  rings  upon  the  big  gongs. 

In  the  center  of  the  platform,  and  directly  at 
the  front,  stands  another  machine  that  is  really  a 
wonderful  piece  of  mechanism — a  tall,  upright  in- 
strument, also  inclosed  in  a  glass  case.  There  are 
four  disks  or  circles  to  be  seen  on  the  front  of  it, 
three  in  a  row  and  one  directly  in  the  middle,  over 
the  three.  Each  circle  consists  of  four  wheels,  one 
on  top  of  the  other.  These  wheels 
are  so  numbered  on  their  rims 
that  by  moving  them  around  any 
combination  of  figures  can  be 
made.  For  example,  by  moving 
the  first  three  wheels  around  until  ^  ,,,^^^^3 
2  shows  on  the  fourth,  or  last;  the  ^^^^^ 


90 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


second  wheel  around  until  3  shows  on  the  tMrd, 
and  the  first  around  until  4  shows  on  the  second 
wheel,  we  get  234,  the  wheels  moving  from  left 
to  right,  and  the  last,  or  bottom,  wheel  showing 
the  first  number.  Beside  the  upper  or  top  circle 
there  is  a  pointer  resting  upon  a  dial  numbered 
from  1  to  5.  This  pointer  controls  the  number  of 
rounds  sent  out  by  this  machine.  By  setting  it  at 
figure  2  upon  the  dial,  and  pressing  it  down,  after 
we  have  set  the  combination  of  numbers  men- 
tioned above,  this  instrument  will  send  out  two 
rounds  of  "234"  to  all  the  engine-houses. 

This  instrument,  called  the  "  transmitter,"  is  used 
for  sending  out  the  second,  third,  fourth,  fifth, 
and  sixth  alarms,  and  all  the  special  calls  used 
in  the  service,  and  can  be  used  for  transmitting 
all  regular  alarms  in  case  the  other  instrument 
breaks  down.  It  is  connected  by  the  "  big-gong  " 
circuit  with  all  the  companies  in  the  department, 
and  any  combination  of  strokes  on  the  large 
gongs  can  be  rung  with  this  instrument.  It  is 
entirely  automatic,  and,  after  the  numbers  are 
properly  set  on  the  wheels,  never  makes  any  mis- 
takes, and  is  really  the  most  important  and  in- 
genious machine  in  the  bureau. 

Having  thus  seen  all  the  principal  instruments, 


THE  REGISTER. 


This  marvelous  instrament  registers  the  alarms  from  more 
than  1000  boxes.  The  paper  on  which  the  box  numbers  are  writ- 
ten is  10  inches  wide  and  is  run  through  the  register  by  a  system 
of  clock-work.  The  "pens"  that  do  the  writing  hit  the  paper 
where  it  passes  through  the  instrument  at  the  highest  part,  print- 
ing a  long,  black  dash  at  each  click  of  the  sounder.  Inside  the 
glass  case  covering  the  register,  and  at  the  lower  left-hand 
corner,  can  be  seen  some  of  the  clock-work  machinery  that  starts 
the  paper  moving  when  an  alarm  begins  to  come  in.  The  bright, 
V-shaped  metal  pieces,  seen  at  the  back  of  the  case  and  above 
the  instrument,  are  the  switches  controlling  the  circuits  connected 
with  the  register.  On  top  of  the  case  is  a  little  easel  holding  cards 
bearing  the  number  of  the  last  alarm  that  has  come  in  — in  this 
instance  from  box  No.  147.  Another  register,  an  exact  duplicate 
of  this  one,  is  located  in  a  corner  of  the  platform  near  the  combi- 
nation keys.  Should  anything  happen  to  the  one  described  above, 
the  wires  coming  from  the  boxes  can  be  switched  into  this  "  re- 
serve register  "  in  an  instant,  thus  insuring  the  bureau  against 
failures  in  receiving  the  alarms. 


AN  ALARM  OF  FIRE  BY  TELEGRAPH  93 

and  understanding  their  uses,  we  will  now  see 
what  happens  when  an  alarm  comes  in. 

An  operator  sits  at  a  desk  in  the  middle  of 
the  platform,  answering  and  attending  to  the  tel- 
ephone calls  coming  from  the  different  engine- 
houses,  for  this  desk  is  the  "  central  office  "  of  the 
department.  Another  operator  moves  about  in 
front  of  the  "switchboard"  on  the  other  side  of 
the  platform,  testing  the  strength  of  currents  on 
the  different  circuits,  etc.  There  are  always  two 
operators  on  duty,  sometimes  three,  night  and  day. 
They  work  in  shifts,  or  "tours,"  as  they  are 
called,  of  eight  hours  each,  three  tours  making  xip 
the  day. 

Suddenly  there  comes  a  buzzing  of  machinery 
in  the  direction  of  the  register,  followed  by  a  loud 
"click,"  a  pause  and  four  more  clicks,  another 
pause  and  seven  more  clicks, — 147,  the  station  I 
have  already  mentioned. 

This  is  repeated  five  times,  the  number  of 
rounds  the  box  sends  in ;  but  before  the  first 
round  has  clicked  off,  the  operator  at  the  desk 
has  stepped  quickly  to  the  register.  He  glances 
at  the  tape.  He  turns  as  quickly  from  this  to  a 
cabinet  in  the  center  of  the  platform  and  at  the 
back  of  the  telephone  desk,  and  opens  a  drawer. 


94 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


This  cabinet  is  made  up  of  wide,  shallow  drawers, 
and  as  he  opens  this  one,  we  see  that  it  is  full  of 
rows  of  little  brass  disks  about  two  inches  in 
diameter  and  a  quarter  of  an  inch  thick,  each 
resting  over  a  wooden  peg  that  is 
fastened  to  the  bottom  of  the 
drawer.  These  are  the  disks,  or 
"buttons,"  that  operate  the  re- 
peater, or  big-gong  instrument. 
A  REPEATER  BUTTON.  Thcrc  is  oiic  for  every  station, 
or  box,  each  one  cut  differently;  and  as  there 
are  ten  or  eleven  hundred  boxes,  it  can  be  seen 
how  many  there  must  be. 

He  takes  out  the  one  bearing  the  number  of  the 
station  that  has  just  come  in — 147  —  and  passes 
it  to  the  other  operator,  who  by  this  time  stands 
beside  the  repeater.  With  this  disk  there  are  two 
others,  made  of  cardboard,  also  bearing  the  num- 
ber of  the  station  and  having  beneath  two  rows 
of  figures.  These  figures  are  the  numbers  of  the 
circuits  or  wires  over  which  this  alarm  has  not  to 
be  sent.  He  passes  one  to  the  operator  beside  the 
repeater,  and,  retaining  the  other,  he  steps  quickly 
over  to  the  "combination  keys,"  and  pushing  down 
the  lever  that  throws  on  an  extra-heavy  current 
of  electricity,  with  a  firm,  quick  touch  he  sends  in 
the  alarm  to  the  companies  nearest  the  fire. 


THE  REPEATER. 

Thie  instrument,  like  the  transmitter,  is  run  by  clock-work  oper- 
ated by  a  system  of  weights  placed  underneath  the  cabinet  it  stands 
upon.  The  handle  to  wind  it  up  can  be  seen  at  the  right-hand  end 
of  the  glass  case  covering  it.  The  button  that  sends  out  the  required 
number  of  taps  over  the  " big  gong"  circuits  is  pushed  on  a  central 
shaft  through  the  round  openings  seen  in  the  front  of  the  glass 
case.  These  buttons  are  held  upon  this  shaft  by  a  tweezer-like 
spring  surrounding  the  same. 

The  wires  shown  in  the  illustration  at  the  back  of  the  instrument 
connect  the  cylinders  that  revolve  when  the  machine  is  at  work 
with  the  "big  gong's"  circuits.  The  telephones  throughout  the  de- 
partment also  receive  the  alarm  by  means  of  one  of  these  cylinders, 
and  should  you  happen  to  be  in  an  engine-house  when  this  instru- 
ment is  at  work,  and  the  alarm  does  not  come  in  on  either  the 
"  combination  "  or  the  "  big  gong,"  you  will  hear  the  tiny  telephone 
bells  strike  the  number  of  the  box  with  the  slow,  measured  tap 
of  the  big  gong. 


AN  ALARM  OF  FIRE  BY  TELEGRAPH  97 

When  he  has  sent  in  two  rounds,  or  the  number  ' 
of  the  box  twice,  his  fellow-operator  at  the  re- 
peater pushes  the  little  brass  disk  that  he  holds 
in  his  hand  on  the  shaft  that  projects  through  the 
round  opening  in  the  glass  case  of  the  latter  in- 
strument, and  pressing  a  push-button,  it  begins 
to  revolve.  As  we  watch  it  revolving  we  see  the 
first  little  projection  on  the  rim  of  the  disk  press 
against  a  steel  spring  beside  the  shaft,  long  enough 
to  let  one  pulsation  of  electricity  pass  through  the 
machine.  This  allows  some  small  cylinders  at  the 
top  to  revolve  once.  This  means  one  stroke  on 
the  big  gongs  in  the  engine-houses.  When  the 
second  projection  reaches  this  spring  it  keeps  it 
back  long  enough  for  four  revolutions  of  the 
cylinders, —  that  means  four  strokes  on  the  big 
gongs, —  and  the  last  and  largest  projection  allows 
the  cylinders  to  revolve  seven  times,  meaning- 
seven  strokes,  thus  completing  the  number. 

This  button,  or  disk,  revolves  twice,  sending  out 
two  rounds  of  the  signal.  In  the  meantime,  the 
other  operator  has  sent  out  two  more  rounds  on 
the  combination  key,  so  that  the  firemen  respond- 
ing to  this  box  receive  the  number  of  the  station 
six  different  times  and  on  two  instruments,  leaving 
little  chance  for  mistakes. 

7 


98 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


Before  the  operator  sends  out  the  first  stroke  on 
the  combination  key,  with  a  rapid  movement  he 
pulls  out  the  large  "stops"  or  push-buttons  con- 
trolling the  circuits  over  which  the  alarm  is  not  to 
be  sent.  This  leaves  the  companies  on  these  cir- 
cuits in  comparative  quiet,  they  receiving  the 
alarm  only  on  the  telephone,  of  which  no  official 
notice  is  taken.  There  are  some*  eighty-two  or 
more  engine  and  hook-and-ladder  companies  in 
New  York  city,  distributed  over  a  distance  of 
fifteen  miles,  so  it  would  be  manifestly  absurd  to 
arouse  them  all  for  fires  to  which,  perhaps,  many 
of  these  companies  would  not  be  called  even  if 
they  proved  serious.  By  this  system  of  having 
the  engine-houses  on  circuits,  only  those  in  the 
immediate  neighborhood  of  the  fire  are  notified, 
with  perhaps  a  few  scattering  companies  who 
happen  to  be  on  the  same  wires. 

In  sending  out  an  alarm  in  this  manner,  every- 
thing is  done  very  quickly  —  more  quickly  than  it 
can  be  described.  Not  a  word  is  spoken.  Con- 
versation of  any  kind  might  cause  a  mistake  that 
would  result  in  the  possible  loss  of  many  lives  and 
valuable  property.  Each  operator  knows  exactly 
what  he  has  to  do,  and  does  it  silently  and  quickly, 
and  it  is  estimated,  by  careful  timing,  that  an 


THE  "TRANSMITTER." 

Tliis  might  be  called  the  most  important  instrumeut  iu 
the  bureau,  inasmuch  as  it  can  be  depended  upon  to  send 
out  any  and  all  of  the  alarms  received  at  headquarters. 
Any  combination  of  flf^ures  can  be  arranged  upon  these 
"Wheels,  from  1  to  999.  In  sending  out  a  set  of  signals  with 
this  instrument  the  wheel  at  the  left-hand  side  begins  to 
revolve  first,  the  others  following  in  the  order  of  their 
arrangement,  the  wheel  at  the  top  revolving  last.  This 
Instrument  is  also  run  by  clock-work. 


AN  ALARM  OF  FIRE  BY  TELEGRAPH  101 


alarm  can  be  received  and  sent  out  by  this  method 
inside  of  nine  seconds,  and  this  from  a  box  having 
a  long  number,  so  that  very  little  time  is  lost. 

Even  in  the  case  of  a  large  fire,  when  one  alarm 
follows  another  at  the  most  rapid  rate,  there  is 
little  confusion,  if  any  at  all.  A  visitor  to  the 
bureau  would  scarcely  realize  that  an  alarm  had 
been  received  and  sent  out  until  it  was  all  over,  so 
systematically  is  everything  done. 

When  the  operator  at  the  combination  has  fin- 
ished his  task,  he  turns  to  a  large  book  beside 
him  and  ascertains  the  numbers  of  the  companies 
who  respond  to  that  box.  This  book  is  called  the 
"assignment  book,"  and  is  issued  for  the  benefit 
of  the  different  companies  of  the  department ;  for 
it  tells  the  number  of  each  box,  and  its  location, 
and  the  companies  that  are  "  assigned "  or  ex- 
pected to  respond  to  that  particular  box,  on  the 
first,  second,  third,  fourth,  and  fifth  alarms;  also 
the  order  in  which  they  are  supposed  to  arrive. 
Having  found  the  numbers  of  the  companies  "due" 
upon  this  station,  the  operator  turns  to  the  post 
in  the  middle  of  the  platform,  and,  under  the  row 
of  push-buttons  headed  "Out,"  he  pushes  in  the 
numbers  of  Engine  Companies  31,  55,  and  12,  and 
Hook-and-Ladder  Companies  6  and  8,  and  Water 


102 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


Tower  No.  1,  thus  putting  them  "out  of  service." 
This  means  that  they  have  left  their  respective 
quarters,  and  cannot  be  depended  upon  to  respond 
to  any  other  alarms  that  might  come  in  from  their 
district.  As  he  pushes  in  these  buttons,  little 
round  disks  bearing  similar  numbers  drop  down 
in  an  annunciator  at  the  top  of  the  cabinet-work 
over  the  switchboard. 

By  referring  to  this  annunciator  the  operator 
can  tell  at  any  time  just  what  companies  are  "  out 
of  service,"  and  should  other  alarms  come  in  from 
their  neighborhood  while  they  are  "  out  of  quar- 
ters," he  will  have  other  companies  respond. 
When  the  companies  return  from  a  fire  the  Morse 
instruments  announce  their  return  by  a  series  of 
little  clicks.  This  is  the  captain  or  officer  in 
charge  sending  in  his  "return  taps,"  or  "three- 
fours,"  as  they  are  known  technically,  that  is,  4-4-4 
and  the  number  of  the  company,  thus  informing 
the  bureau  that  his  company  is  back  in  quarters 
once  more,  and  ready  to  respond  to  other  alarms. 
The  operator  replies,  "2-3,"  meaning  "all  right," 
on  the  Morse  key,  and  then,  turning  to  the  push- 
button post,  under  the  heading  "  In,"  pushes  them 
back  "in  service"  again.  Shortly  afterward  the 
officer  in  charge  of  the  fire  calls  the  operator  up 


THE  OPERATOR  SENDING  OUT  AN  ALARM  ON  THE 
"  COMBINATION." 


AN  ALARM  OF  FIRE  BY  TELEGRAPH  105 

on  the  telephone,  and  tells  him  the  location  of  the 
fire  and  amount  of  damage  to  building  and  stock 
or  furniture.  This  account  is  afterward  entered 
in  a  "journal"  kept  in  the  bureau,  and  three 
copies  are  sent  down  to  the  commissioners'  rooms, 
where  records  are  kept  of  all  fires,  no  matter  how 
slight. 

This  finishes  the  routine  work  in  this  bureau  of 
receiving  and  transmitting  "an  alarm  of  fire  by 
telegraph."  The  operation  is  gone  through  ten  or 
fifteen  times  a  day  —  some  days  less,  others  many 
more.  In  the  dead  of  night,  in  the  early  hours 
of  the  morning,  while  we  are  sleeping,  eating,  at 
work  or  at  play,  the  operator  is  always  here,  wide 
awake,  and  ever  on  the  alert  —  ready  to  answer 
the  call  for  help  that  may  come  from  the  "  little 
red  box,"  and  to  send  it  on  to  those  who  will  aid 
us  in  saving  our  homes  from  destruction  and  ruin. 

After  this,  when  we  see  a  fire  company  respond- 
ing to  the  call  of  duty,  we  shall  better  appreciate 
the  methods  that  have  been  used  to  send  them  on 
their  noble  errand.  And  when  we  glance  through 
the  pages  of  a  metropolitan  engine  company's 
"  house- journal,"  we  shall  better  understand  how 
much  meaning  is  hidden  beneath  that  little  phrase 
— "  an  alarm  of  fire  by  telegraph.'' 


THE  RISKS  OF  A  FIREMAN'S  LIFE. 


THE  risks  and  dangers  that  firemen  face  in  the 
discharge  of  their  duty  are  known  to  very 
few.  The  outside  world  —  the  pubhc  at  large  — 
hears  little  or  nothing  of  them.  Fires,  in  a  large 
city  like  New  York,  are  of  such  common  occur- 
rence that  the  newspapers  rarely  give  them  more 
than  a  paragraphic  notice;  and,  in  fact,  all  accounts 
of  fires  to-day  are  condensed  so  as  to  occupy  the 
smallest  possible  space.  Of  course  confiagrations  of 
any  magnitude  receive  their  share  of  recognition 
in  the  columns  of  the  dail}^  papers;  and  the  papers 
are  never  stinting  in  the  praise  they  give  the  fire- 
men for  the  brave  and  skilful  work  that  they  per- 
form; but  the  Fire  Departments  throughout  all  our 
large  cities  are  so  perfectly  organized  to-day  that 
the  "  large  fire "  does  not  often  occur,  and  detailed 
accounts  are  therefore  seldom  found  in  the  papers. 
When  we  see  a  fire  company  dashing  on  its  way 

106 


THE  RISKS  OF  A  FIREMAN'S  LIFE  107 

in  answer  to  an  alarm,  we  stop  to  admire  the  stir- 
ring picture  that  it  presents.  Instinctively  we 
look  in  the  direction  in  which  it  is  proceeding  for 
the  appearance  of  smoke,  if  it  be  daytime,  or  the 
glare  of  the  flames,  if  it  be  at  night,  to  indicate  the 
location  of  the  fire.  We  perhaps  see  none,  and 
pass  on  our  way ;  and  in  the  whirl  of  city  life  this 
incident  is  soon  forgotten.  And  yet  this  company 
may  return  with  many  of  its  members  bruised  and 
sore,  while  others  are  perhaps  conveyed  to  near-by 
hospitals,  mortally  wounded.  It  is  not  always  the 
fire  that  makes  the  biggest  show  that  is  the  hard- 
est to  fight.  The  fire  that  goes  roaring  through 
the  roof  of  a  building,  lighting  up  the  city  for 
miles  around,  is  sometimes  much  more  easily  sub- 
dued than  the  dull,  smoky  cellar  or  sub-cellar  fire 
that  forces  the  men  to  face  the  severest  kind  of 
"punishment,"  the  effects  of  which  are  felt  for 
weeks  afterward,  before  it  is  controlled. 

At  a  sub-cellar  fire  that  occurred  one  night,  a  few 
years  ago,  on  lower  Broadway,  I  saw  over  a  dozen 
men  laid  out  on  the  sidewalk,  overcome  by  the 
smoke.  A  gruesome  sight  it  was,  too,  with  the 
dim  figures  of  the  ambulance  surgeons,  lanterns  in 
hand,  working  over  them,  and  the  thick  smoke  for 
a  background. 


108 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


These  were  brave  fellows  who  had  dashed  in 
with  the  lines  of  hose,  only  to  be  dragged  out 
afterward  by  their  comrades,  nearly  suffocated  by 
the  thick,  stifling  smoke  that  poured  in  volumes 
from  every  opening  in  the  basement.  Over  one 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  of  "  dead-lights,"  or  grating, 
over  the  sidewalk  had  to  be  broken  in  that  night 
before  the  cellars  were  relieved  sufficiently  of  the 
smoke  with  which  they  were  charged,  to  allow  the 
men  to  go  in  and  extinguish  the  fire.  This  re- 
quired the  combined  work  of  the  crews  of  five 
hook-and-ladder  companies,  who  broke  in  the  iron- 
work with  the  butt -ends  of  their  axes  —  the 
hardest  kind  of  work.  But  the  newspapers  the 
following  morning  gave  this  fire  only  a  ten-  or 
twelve-line  notice,  mentioning  the  location  and 
the  estimated  loss,  and  adding  that  "it  was  a 
severe  fire  to  subdue."  No  word  of  the  punish- 
ment and  suffering  the  men  were  forced  to  face 
before  this  fire  was  under  control ;  no  mention  of 
the  dash  after  dash  into  the  cellar  with  the  heavy 
line  of  hose,  only  to  be  driven  back  to  the  street 
by  the  smoke,  or  to  be  dragged  out  afterward 
nearly  unconscious;  nor  of  the  thud  after  thud 
with  the  heavy  axes  on  the  thick  iron  grating 
that  required  twenty  or  thirty  blows  before  any 


THE  RISKS  OF  A  FIREMAN'S  LIFE  111 

impression  could  be  made  on  it.  This  was  mus- 
cle-straining, lung-taxing  work  that  the  average 
man  has  to  face  only  once  in  a  lifetime;  but  the 
firemen  in  a  large  city  have  it  always  before  them ; 
and  each  tap  on  the  telegraph  may  mean  the  sig- 
nal to  summon  them  to  a  task  that  requires  the 
utmost  strength  and  nerve. 

While  speaking  of  cellar  fires,  let  me  relate  an 
incident  that  happened  to  some  companies  in  the 
down-town  district  at  a  fire  of  this  description.  It 
occurred  in  Barclay  street,  in  the  sub-cellar  of  a 
crockery  and  glass  warehouse,  amid  the  straw 
used  to  pack  the  glassware.  It  sent  forth  a  dense, 
stifling  smoke,  and  was  an  ugly  fire  to  fight.  I 
will  relate  it  in  the  rather  characteristic  way  in 
which  it  was  told  me  by  a  fireman  in  one  of  the 
companies  that  were  summoned  to  subdue  it.  The 
story  gives  an  idea  of  what  the  firemen  in  the  busi- 
ness part  of  a  big  city  may  have  to  face  at  any  time. 

"The  station  came  in  one  night  at  11:30.  We 
rolled,  and  found  the  fire  in  Barclay  street,  in  a 
crockery  warehouse  —  burning  straw,  jute,  excel- 
sior, and  all  that  sort  of  stuff  in  the  sub-cellar. 
Smoke  ?  I  never  saw  such  smoke  since  I 've  been 
in  the  business.  We  went  through  the  building, 
and  found  the  fire  had  n't  got  above  the  cellar.. 


112 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


We  tried  to  get  the  line  down  the  cellar  stairs, 
but  it  was  no  use.  No  one  could  live  on  that 
stairway  for  a  minute.  The  chief  then  divided  us 
up,  sent  out  a  second  [a  second  alarm],  and  we 
sailed  in  to  drown  it  out;  27  engine  got  the  rear; 
7  engine  the  stairway,  to  keep  it  from  coming  up ; 
and  our  company,  29,  got  the  front.  We  pried 
open  the  iron  cellar  doors  on  the  pavement,  only 
to  find  that  the  elevator,  used  to  carry  freight  to 
the  bottom,  had  been  run  up  to  the  top.  Here 
were  four  inches  of  Georgia  pine  to  cut  through ! 
And  phew !  such  work  in  such  smoke !  Well,  we 
got  through  this,  opened  it  up,  and  —  out  it  all 
came !  No  flames,  just  smoke,  and  with  force 
enough  to  suffocate  a  man  in  a  second.  We 
backed  out  to  the  gutter  and  got  a  little  fresh  air 
in  our  lungs,  and  went  at  it  again.  We  brought 
a  35-foot  ladder  over  from  the  truck  and  lowered 
it  through  this  opening,  and  found  we  could  nH 
touch  bottom !  A  45-foot  ladder  was  put  down, 
and  only  three  rungs  remained  above  the  side- 
walk ;  this  showed  that  there  was  over  forty  feet 
of  cellar  and  sub-cellar !  And  down  in  this  place 
we  had  to  go  with  the  line.  Well,  the  sooner  we 
got  at  it  the  sooner  it  was  over;  so,  shifting  the 
line  over  the  top  rung  of  the  ladder,  so  it  would  n't 


THE  RISKS  OF  A  FIREMAN'S  LIFE  113 

get  caught,  down  we  started.  It  was  only  forty 
feet,  but  I  can  tell  you  it  seemed  like  three  hun- 
dred and  forty  before  we  got  to  the  bottom.  Of 
course,  when  we  got  there  it  was  n't  so  bad ;  the 
smoke  lifted,  and  gave  us  a  corner  in  the  cellar 
shaft  where  we  could  work,  and  we  soon  drove 
the  fire  away  to  the  rear  and  out ;  but  going  down 
we  got  a  dose  of  smoke  we  '11  all  remember  to  our 
last  days." 

The  company  working  in  the  rear  fared  even 
worse  than  the  other.  They  had  to  descend  into 
a  narrow  court  only  four  feet  wide,  about  twenty- 
five  feet  long  (the  width  of  the  building),  and 
forty  feet  deep,  merely  a  shaft  to  give  light  and 
air  to  the  cellar  and  sub-cellar.  When  the  com- 
pany in  the  front  got  to  work,  they  drove  the  fire 
to  the  rear  with  such  violence  that  this  company 
was  compelled  to  ascend  rapidly  to  the  street  fioor 
to  save  their  lives. 

Next  to  a  dangerous  cellar  fire  nothing  is  more 
dreaded  by  the  men  than  what  is  known  in  their 
own  language  as  the  "  back-draft."  This  is  a  sud- 
den veering  of  the  flames,  usually  caused  by  the 
burning  away  of  some  portion  of  the  building 
that  gives  the  fire  renewed  draft,  and  changes  its 
course  completely. 

8 


114 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


The  firemen  arrive  and  find  the  whole  second 
or  third  floor  of  a  building  in  flames.  Axes  in 
hand,  they  smash  open  the  doors,  and  with  the 
hose  dash  up  the  stairway.  This  is  all  afire,  and 
the  flames  are  rolling  above  like  a  red  pall.  With 
the  engine  at  work  and  good  pressure  on  the  line, 
the  battle  between  the  two  elements,  fire  and 
water,  begins.  Inch  by  inch  the  men  fight  their 
way  up  the  stairway,  now  to  retreat  as  the  fire 
gains  upon  them,  and  now  to  advance  as  it  rolls 
away  for  a  moment.  The  encouraging  words  of 
the  commanding  officer  are  heard  behind  them 
urging  them  on :  "  Now,  get  in,  boys !  That 's  it 
—  get  in  —  get  in  !  Make  the  next  landing !  Hit 
it  up,  boys ! "  and  all  the  other  words  of  encour- 
agement that  he  usually  gives. 

They  finally  reach  the  landing.  They  are  on 
the  floor  with  the  fire.  It  rolls  away  from  them. 
They  drive  it  further  back.  Encouraged  by  their 
seeming  victory,  they  drag  up  more  of  the  heavy 
hose  to  make  a  final  dash  at  it,  when  suddenly 
something  falls  in  at  the  rear  of  the  fire  and  gives 
it  renewed  draft.  It  rolls  toward  them,  an  im- 
penetrable wall  of  fire  —  the  deadly  back-draft! 
Their  only  chance  of  escape  is  to  throw  them- 
selves upon  their  faces,  in  hope  that  it  may  roll 


THE  RISKS  OF  A  FIREMAN'S  LIFE  117 

over  them,  or  to  hurl  themselves  down  the  stairs 
up  which  they  have  so  gallantly  fought  their  way. 
Better  a  broken  leg  or  arm  than  death  by  roast- 
ing; and  the  water  of  fifty  engines  could  never 
stay  the  progress  of  that  awful  wave  of  flame. 

Many  a  brave  fellow  has  lost  his  life  in  this 
manner;  and  very  often  all  the  members  of  a 
company  return  with  their  eyebrows,  hair,  and 
beard  singed  off,  bearing  evidence  that  they  have 
been  "  ketched,"  as  they  express  it,  by  a  less  ter- 
rible form  of  this  deadly  draft. 

Another  kind  of  back-draft  that  is  greatly 
dreaded  takes  the  form  of  an  explosion,  and  is 
usually  met  with  in  fires  in  storage-houses  and 
large  warehouses  that  have  been  closed  up  tight 
for  some  time.  A  fire  breaks  out  in  such  a  build- 
ing, and,  as  a  rule,  has  been  smoldering  for  some 
time  before  it  is  discovered.  The  firemen  are  sum- 
moned, and,  raising  a  ladder,  they  pry  open  an 
iron  shutter  or  break  in  a  door  to  get  at  the  fire. 
The  combustion  going  on  within  the  building  has 
generated  a  gas ;  and  the  moment  the  air  gets  to 
this,  through  the  breaking  open  of  the  door  or 
window,  the  mixture  ignites.  An  explosion  fol- 
lows, and  a  portion  or  the  whole  of  the  front  of 
the  building  is  destroyed.    Several  accidents  of 


118 


FIGHTING  A  FIEE 


this  kind  have  occurred  in  New  York  —  one  in  a 
storage-warehouse  in  West  Thirty-ninth  street 
a  few  years  ago,  when  the  whole  front  was  blown 
out,  hurling  the  firemen  from  the  ladders,  and  se- 
verely injuring  a  large  number.  Another  accident 
of  the  same  nature  occurred  shortly  after  this,  in 
a  large  wholesale  flour-warehouse  down-town.  In 
this  case  it  was  supposed  that  particles  of  flour 
in  the  air  inside  the  warehouse  became  ignited 
and  exploded ;  but  it  was  practically  another  case 
of  the  back-draft.  Several  firemen  were  maimed 
and  injured  in  this  case. 

Now  much  greater  caution  is  exercised  in  "  open- 
ing up  "  buildings  of  this  kind  when  a  fire  breaks 
out  in  them ;  and  to-day  the  back-draft  is  of  rare 
occurrence,  though  any  alarm  may  bring  the  fire- 
men face  to  face  with  it. 

The  falling  wall  is  another  danger  with  which 
the  firemen  have  to  contend  in  fighting  a  fii^e, 
although  it  can  truly  be  said  that,  like  the  big 
fire,  this  difficulty  is  not  often  met  with  to-day. 
Modern  buildings  do  not  crumble  away  as  some 
used  to  in  the  fires  of  ten  or  fifteen  years  ago,  and 
the  up-to-date  fire-proof  building  may  be  entirely 
gutted  inside  while  the  walls  remain  intact.  It 
may  seem  strange  to  speak  of  a  fire-proof  building 


THE  RISKS  OF  A  FIREMAN'S  LIFE  119 

being  burned  out,  but  experience  has  taught  the 
firemen  not  to  put  too  much  confidence  in  such 
structures,  for  it  has  been  shown  that  many  of 
them  are  really  not  so  "fire-proof"  as  their  builders 
had  imagined. 

There  are  several  kinds  of  falling  walls,  and  the 
fireman  of  experience  knows  them  well,  and  what 
to  expect  from  each.  There  is  one  kind  that 
breaks  first  at  the  bottom  and  comes  down  almost 
straight,  somewhat  like  a  curtain.  This  makes  a 
big  noise,  but  is  not  very  much  to  be  dreaded. 
Then  there  is  another  that  bulges  or  "  buckles  "  in 
the  middle  at  first,  and  makes  a  sort  of  curve  as  it 
descends.  This  is  always  more  serious  than  the 
first,  and  has  caused  many  fatalities.  Then  there 
is  one  that  breaks  at  the  bottom  and  comes  straight 
out,  reaching  clear  across  the  street,  and  remaining 
almost  solid  until  it  strikes;  and,  as  an  old-time 
fireman  once  remarked :  "  That  's  the  kind  you 
want  to  dodge." 

This  kind  of  "falling  wall"  has  caused  more  of 
the  deaths  in  the  department  than  any  other  danger 
the  firemen  have  to  contend  with.  It  has  killed 
horses  as  well  as  men,  and  destroyed  apparatus; 
and  it  falls  so  rapidly,  and  covers  so  much  space, 
that  to  escape  it  the  men  have  to  be  quick  indeed. 


120 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


Fires  in  warehouses  filled  with  drugs  and  paints 
always  mean  grave  danger  to  the  firemen.  Fires 
occur  in  them  quite  frequently,  usually  caused  by 
spontaneous  combustion  or  through  the  vaporiza- 
tion of  some  of  the  many  oils  or  chemicals  stored 
in  the  buildings.  They  make  dangerous  fires  to 
fight,  the  carboys  of  different  acids  being  packed 
in  salt  hay  or  straw  that  makes  a  dense  smoke ;  and 
this  smoke  is  sometimes  charged  with  the  fumes  of 
some  acid,  the  combination  forming  a  most  deadly 
mixture  to  breathe.  Still,  fires  of  this  kind  must 
be  fought  as  bravely  as  fires  amid  less  dangerous 
surroundings,  for  the  very  nature  of  the  contents 
makes  it  imperative  that  the  fire  be  extinguished 
as  soon  as  possible ;  and  the  greatest  personal  risk 
is  sometimes  taken  in  getting  these  fires  under 
control. 

The  firemen  often  work  in  the  cellars  of  these 
buildings  surrounded  on  every  hand  by  cases  or 
barrels  of  oils  and  chemicals  of  the  most  inflamma- 
ble kind,  fighting  the  fire  back,  inch  by  inch,  until 
it  is  finally  conquered.  Sometimes  they  can  remain 
in  such  situations  for  only  a  few  moments  at  a  time ; 
and  then  the  exhausted  men  retreat  to  the  street, 
while  a  fresh  squad  or  company  take  their  places. 

They  cannot  afford  to  give  the  fire  a  chance  to 


THE  RISKS  OF  A  FIREMAN'S  LIFE 


123 


gain  the  slightest  headway,  for  should  it  reach  the 
dangerous  material  around  them  an  explosion  would 
follow,  probably  killing  every  one  in  the  cellar.  So 
it  is  fought  stubbornly  and  persistently  until  under 
control ;  but  none  but  men  of  indomitable  courage 
will  face  such  risks,  and  the  heroes  who  engage  in 
this  perilous  work  receive  scant  recognition  of  their 
bravery.  Outside  of  their  companions  little  is 
known  of  their  deeds  of  valor,  and  they  themselves 
scarcely  give  them  a  second  thought,  for  in  the 
routine  of  their  work  risks  are  taken  in  every  fire, 
and  the  fact  that  the  risks  have  been  greater  in  a 
fire  of  this  kind  does  not  impress  them  especially — 
they  know  they  have  been  in  a  perilous  position, 
have  faced  death  in  a  terrible  form,  have  made  a 
good  fight  of  it  and  come  out  victors — there  it 
ends. 

It  is  not  alone  in  saving  lives  from  fire  that  the 
firemen  show  of  what  heroic  stuff  they  are  made ; 
in  the  simple  discharge  of  their  daily  duty  they  are 
often  forced  to  risk  life  over  and  over  again  in 
deeds  of  daring  about  which  we  hear  little  —  deeds 
that  are  repeated  at  almost  every  serious  fire  to 
which  they  are  called. 

The  advent  of  winter  brings  with  it  additional 
dangers  and  hardships  for  the  firemen.  Fires 


124 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


are  much  more  numerous  duriug  extremely  cold 
weather,  and  fire-duty  is  usually  very  trying 
throughout  the  winter  months.  This  excess  of 
fires  can  be  traced  to  overheated  furnaces  and 
stoves,  fires  being  built  carelessly  and  in  places  not 
much  used,  and  attempts  made  to  warm  apart- 
ments that  perhaps  it  would  not  be  necessary  to 
heat  at  any  other  time.  The  fire  record  during  an 
unusually  cold  spell  rises  to  from  twenty-five  to 
forty  fires  per  day  in  New  York  city,  and  this 
keeps  the  firemen  ever  "on  the  jump." 

All  the  serious  fires  seem  to  occur  on  bitterly 
cold  days  or  nights,  and  the  suffering  of  the  men 
working  at  such  fires  is  very  great.  To  work  out 
of  doors  in  a  freezing  temperature  is  not  very 
pleasant  under  any  circumstances ;  but  to  work  in 
tvater  and  tvith  tvater  while  exposed  to  the  bitter 
cold  is  more  than  disagreeable. 

To  stand  upon  the  peak  of  a  ladder  at  perhaps 
the  third  or  fourth  story  of  a  building,  direct- 
ing the  stream  of  water  at  the  blazing  interior, 
while  the  thermometer  is  at  about  its  lowest  point, 
is  not  a  comfortable  task.  Perhaps  another  stream 
is  playing  over  your  head,  and  you  stand  in  an  icy 
spray.  Icicles  hang  from  every  point  of  your  fire- 
hat,  while  the  rubber  coat  is  frozen  to  yom^  back ; 


THE  RISKS  OF  A  FIREMAN'S  LIFE  125 

and  the  water  that  is  falling  about  you  freezes  as 
fast  as  it  falls.  Every  movement  upon  the  ladder 
is  fraught  with  danger,  for  it  is  so  incrusted  with 
ice  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  get  a  solid  foot- 
hold, and  a  misstep  would  hurl  you  to  the  ground, 
forty  feet  below. 

Such  is  the  experience  of  nearly  every  fireman 
during  the  winter  months ;  and  although  "  ladder- 
work  "  has  been  done  away  with  to  some  extent  of 
late  years  in  the  big  cities,  still  the  men  are  likely 
to  be  called  upon  to  perform  such  work  at  almost 
any  severe  fire,  should  the  construction  of  the 
building  require  it. 

The  firemen  find  it  difficult  to  get  any  sort  of 
gloves  that  will  protect  their  hands  in  the  extreme 
winter- weather.  A  woolen  glove  of  any  description 
is  saturated  with  water  almost  immediately  and 
freezes  stiff;  while  one  made  of  leather  soon  gets 
into  a  condition  nearly  as  bad,  and  when  dry  be- 
comes as  .hard  as  iron.  They  are,  therefore,  forced 
to  handle  the  hose  with  bare  hands,  no  matter  how 
bitter  the  weather,  and  "  picking  up "  or  stowing 
the  hose  away  in  the  hose-wagons  after  a  fire  is 
over,  becomes  most  painful  work.  The  different 
lengths  of  hose  have  to  be  dragged  up  to  the  wagon 
through  an  icy  slush,  and  sometimes  they  freeze 


126 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


perfectly  stiff  the  instant  the  water  is  turned  off  at 
the  engine.  To  get  them  stowed  away  in  the  new 
hose-wagons  (where  they  are  folded  and  laid  in 
lengths),  or  wound  upon  the  reels  in  the  hose-car- 
riages, exposes  the  men  to  the  severest  kind  of 
punishment.  Their  hands  become  completely  numb 
and  helpless  from  handling  the  ice-clad  pipe ;  and 
the  metal  connections,  cold  to  many  degrees  below 
freezing,  almost  sear  their  fingers  in  "  breaking " 
or  disconnecting  the  different  lengths.  The  least 
severe  part  of  fighting  a  winter  fire  may  be  said  to 
be  the  fire  itself,  for  the  aftermath  —  collecting  the 
hose,  packing  it  upon  the  wagon  in  ship-shape 
order,  and  the  long  ride  home  in  an  icy  breeze 
and  in  water-soaked  clothing  —  is  an  experience 
that  few  would  care  to  encounter;  yet  it  is  the 
usual  sequel  to  every  winter  fire. 

Broken  glass  and  melted  lead  are  among  the 
other  dangers  that  firemen  are  compelled  to  face 
at  bad  fires.  The  former  occurs  at  almost  every 
fire,  and  is  caused  by  the  flames  bursting  through 
the  windows,  or  by  the  efforts  of  the  men  to  make 
an  opening  in  the  building.  The  latter  is  caused 
by  the  burning  away  of  metal  cornices  and  orna- 
mental iron- work  at  the  top  of  buildings,  in  which 
an  immense  amount  of  solder  is  used  to  hold  parts 


LADDER-WORK  IN  ZERO  WEATHER. 


THE  RISKS  OF  A  FIREMAN'S  LIFE  129 

together.  When  the  roaring  flames  pour  out  of 
the  top-story  windows  of  a  building  and  curl  up 
against  this  metal- work  with  the  force  of  a  blast- 
furnace, a  perfect  rain  of  molten  metal  pours 
down,  with  an  occasional  piece  of  red-hot  tin  or 
zinc,  for  variety.  Men  working  upon  ladders  or  on 
fire-escapes  underneath  have  to  stand  this  red-hot 
shower  while  it  burns  great  holes  in  their  rubber 
ooats,  or  protect  themselves  as  best  they  can  by 
crouching  inside  the  window-frames.  "  Top-story 
fires  "  may  not  have  the  disadvantages  and  discom- 
forts that  result  from  the  smoke  of  a  cellar  fire, 
but  they  make  up  for  it  by  the  numerous  petty 
dangers  of  other  kinds. 

There  is  scarcely  a  fire  at  which  some  one  is  not 
injured  by  the  broken  glass,  sometimes  seriously. 
There  are  scores  of  men  in  the  New  York  depart- 
ment to-day  bearing  the  marks  of  cuts  by  glass; 
and  many  have  been  maimed  in  this  manner. 
They  usually  receive  their  injuries  while  standing 
on  or  going  up  the  ladders.  A  window  bursts 
open,  or  some  one  will  break  it  open  with  an  ax 
or  with  a  hook,  and  large  pieces  of  glass  come  slid- 
ing down  the  ladder,  and,  if  the  men  are  not 
quick,  will  cut  them  across  the  back  of  the  hand. 
Many  have  been  severely  injured  in  this  manner, 

9 


130 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


the  muscles  that  control  the  fingers  being  severed, 
virtually  maiming  them  for  life. 

There  is  something  weird  and  at  the  same  time 
exciting  in  watching  the  men  make  a  night  at- 
tack upon  a  smoky  fire.  The  hoarse  shouts  and 
commands  of  the  officers  are  heard ;  while  the  dim 
figures  of  the  men,  some  carrying  lanterns,  others 
dragging  the  lines  of  hose  into  position,  dash  in 
and  out.  Within  can  be  heard  the  dull  chung, 
chung  of  the  heavy  ax  making  an  opening  through 
some  door  or  partition  that  keeps  the  men  from 
the  seat  of  the  fire.  The  thick  smoke  rolls  down 
at  times  and  shuts  everything  from  view,  only  to 
lift  the  next  moment  and  clear  away  as  if  the  fire 
had  suddenly  stopped.  The  next  instant  it  settles 
down  again,  forming  an  inky  pall  through  which 
it  is  impossible  to  see  clearly  for  more  than  a  foot 
away.  In  the  midst  of  this  there  comes  a  crash 
from  above,  and  a  perfect  avalanche  of  glass  de- 
scends :  a  window  has  been  broken  by  the  heat,  or 
by  men  within  to  give  themselves  air.  Those  work- 
ing beneath  who  are  unable  to  escape  this  shower, 
stand  perfectly  still  with  their  hands  drawn  closely 
to  their  sides,  while  the  pieces  rattle  around  them. 
The  thick  leather  fire-hat,  with  its  broad,  protect- 
ing leaf  at  the  back,  saves  them  from  injury.  This 


THE  RISKS  OF  A  FIREMAN'S  LIFE  131 

is  a  characteristic  position  that  the  men  take  when 
in  the  midst  of  falling  debris ;  and  the  leather  hat, 
with  its  stout  ridges  or  "spines"  on  the  top,  pro- 
tects their  heads  from  many  a  serious  cut  or  bruise. 

When  entering  a  strange  building  filled  with 
smoke,  the  officers'  first  thought  (and  the  men's  as 
well)  is  how  to  escape  should  anything  happen 
while  they  are  working  within.  More  correctly 
speaking,  this  is  a  supposed  rule,  not  written  down, 
that  is  observed  by  the  men  for  their  own  protec- 
tion. But  in  the  excitement  and  hm-ry  of  making 
an  attack  upon  a  fire  it  is  seldom  regarded,  and 
men  often  find  themselves  lost  in  a  building,  grop- 
ing about,  searching  for  some  way  of  escape,  while 
the  smoke  gets  so  thick  that  their  lanterns  are 
extinguished.  Their  only  hope  in  this  case  is  to 
find  the  line  of  hose  that  has  been  brought  in,  and, 
on  finding  it,  to  follow  it  along  to  the  street.  By 
keeping  their  faces  low  down,  close  to  the  hose, 
they  will  usually  find  a  current  of  fresh  air,  es- 
pecially if  the  line  is  charged  with  water,  and  this 
will  perhaps  save  them  from  suffocation. 

At  the  school  of  instruction  the  firemen  are 
taught,  before  they  enter  the  service,  how  to  use 
their  hooks  as  a  means  of  self -protection  when 
in  smoky  fires.    The  instructor  tells  them  that  by 


132 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


pushing  tlie  hook  ahead  of  them  as  they  are  ad- 
vancing in  a  strange  building,  it  will  give  warning 
of  their  approach  to  open  hatchways,  partitions, 
etc.  Falls  through  open  bulkheads  and  open 
hatchways  when  working  in  thick,  heavy  smoke 
are  quite  frequent,  and  form  another  of  the  many 
dangers  the  firemen  have  to  encounter. 

To  move  about  quickly  and  with  safety  in  the 
dark  through  a  building  that  one  is  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  is  difficult  enough;  but  when  we 
combine  a  heavy  smoke  with  the  darkness,  and 
imagine  a  fireman  to  be  in  a  building  that  he 
knows  nothing  about,  it  can  be  seen  that  the  task 
of  the  exploring  fireman  is  anything  but  an  easy 
one. 

Falls  from  roofs  and  extensions  of  buildings 
occur  frequently,  and  form  another  menace  of  the 
calling.  Wlien  walking  on  slippery  roofs,  some- 
times covered  with  ice  and  snow,  getting  the  lines 
of  hose  into  position,  or  raising  ladders  to  get  at 
taller  buildings,  the  firemen  work  under  great  dif- 
ficulties; and  it  is  remarkable  that  there  are  not 
more  accidents  than  do  occur.  The  water  that  they 
are  using  only  adds  to  the  dangerous  condition  of 
the  roofs,  sometimes  forming  a  sheet  of  ice  in  cold 
weather;  and  as  everything  is  done  in  a  hurry, 


"  TAKING  "  A  SHOWER  OF  FALLING  GLASS. 


THE  RISKS  OF  A  FIREMAN'S  LIFE  135 

the  escapes  that  they  sometimes  have  are  little 
short  of  miraculous. 

Though  their  life  is  full  of  uncertainties  and 
risks,  the  firemen  find  their  own  amusement  and 
pleasure  in  the  very  dangers  that  they  have  to 
face.  There  is  scarcely  a  serious  fire  that  does 
not  have  a  humorous  side  to  it;  and  they  often 
laugh  and  joke  afterward  at  the  discomforts  and 
trials  that  they  have  just  gone  through ;  or  if  not 
at  their  own,  then  at  those  of  some  fellow-member 
who  has  been  in  a  particularly  disagreeable  po- 
sition. 

An  incident  that  happened  at  a  large  cotton- 
fire  in  the  lower  part  of  New  York,  some  years  ago, 
had  its  comic  side,  and  was  the  means  of  the  fire- 
men discovering  the  main  body  of  the  fire,  which 
for  some  time  they  had  been  endeavoring  in  vain 
to  locate. 

The  smoke  was  pouring  out  of  nearly  every 
part  of  the  building,  and  although  several  en- 
trances had  been  made,  it  had  been  impossible  to 
find  the  seat  of  the  fire.  The  chief  in  charge 
ordered  some  windows  on  the  third  floor  to  be 
"  opened  up,"  and  a  ladder  was  accordingly  raised, 
and  a  fireman  ascended.  With  the  aid  of  a  hook 
he  pried  open  the  iron  shutters,  and,  lamp  in  hand. 


136 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


stepped  ill  and  —  disappeared!  His  companion 
upon  the  ladder,  wondering  why  he  had  so  sud- 
denly vanished  from  sight,  peered  in,  and  found 
that  he  had  stepped  into  the  elevator-shaft,  which 
was  directly  under  this  window,  and  had  fallen 
through  to  the  basement.  Hastily  descending,  he 
alarmed  the  others,  and  forcing  an  entrance,  they 
made  their  way  to  the  cellar.  Here  they  found 
their  comrade  in  a  sitting  position  upon  a  bale  of 
cotton,  partly  stunned  and  dazed  from  the  shock  of 
the  fall,  but  otherwise  uninjured.  In  his  hand  he 
still  held  the  wire  handle  of  his  lamp, —  all  that  re- 
mained of  it, —  while  in  front  of  him,  further  in  the 
basement,  blazing  merrily,  was  the  fire  they  had 
been  endeavoring  to  find.  His  fall  had  led  him 
directly  to  it.  On  afterward  examining  the  hatch- 
way, or  shaft,  through  which  he  had  fallen,  they 
found  that  it  had  bars  running  diagonally  across 
at  each  floor,  and  in  some  marvelous  way  he  had 
escaped  each  one  on  his  downward  flight. 

In  relating  his  experience  afterward,  he  seemed 
to  think  his  fall  an  especially  good  joke,  and  that 
it  was  particularly  funny  his  not  getting  a  "  bump  ^ 
from  the  cross-bars  on  his  way  down;  though  I 
must  confess  I  could  not  see  anything  so  very 
amusing  in  falling  four  floors  through  a  burning 


A  HOT  PLACE. 


THE  RISKS  OF  A  FIREMAN'S  LIFE  139 

building,  and  bringing  up  right  in  the  heart  of 
a  fire. 

Considering  the  exposure  that  men  in  this  busi- 
ness have  to  endure:  jumping  out  of  a  warm  bed 
on  a  bitter  cold  night  to  answer  an  alarm ;  tearing 
through  the  streets,  in  the  face  of  a  biting  wind, 
bareheaded  and  coatless,  finishing  their  dressing 
as  they  dash  along ;  working  in  water-soaked 
clothing  in  a  freezing  temperature;  and  having 
many  hours  of  exhausting  work  at  a  time  —  con- 
sidering all  these,  the  mortality  among  the  fire- 
men is  very  light.  They  are  usually  of  strong 
build  physically,  and  able  to  stand  exposures 
that  would  kill  the  ordinary  man  in  private  life 
two  or  three  times  over,  if  such  a  thing  were 
possible.  As  a  rule,  they  are  fond  of  their  call- 
ing ;  and  the  true  fireman  is  as  enthusiastic  about 
his  work,  and  as  full  of  spirit  in  executing  it, 
as  the  soldier  or  sailor.  The  very  dangers  and 
uncertainties  of  which  his  life  is  so  full  add  a 
kind  of  fascinating  interest  to  it,  and  he  is  always 
ready  for  the  unexpected — which  usually  happens. 

I  saw  an  exciting  incident  at  the  burning  of 
the  big  American  Exchange  Stable  in  New  York, 
last  summer,  that  was  a  striking  illustration  of  the 
pluck  of  our  firemen  at  a  critical  moment,  and 


140 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


their  reluctance  to  desert  "the  line"  even  when 
great  danger  threatens  them. 

The  building  was  located  on  Broadway,  and  ex- 
tended eastward,  along  Fiftieth  Street,  to  Seventh 
Avenue.  The  fire  was  a  big  one,  and  as  at  one 
time  it  seemed  that  the  flames  might  extend  to 
other  buildings,  five  alarms  were  sent  out.  Twenty 
or  thirty  minutes  after  the  outbreak,  the  Fifty-first 
Street  side  was  nearly  all  burned  away,  and  the 
walls  on  that  side  had  fallen,  leaving  great  gaps 
through  which  streams  of  water  were  being  poured 
oil  the  blazing  interior.  Near  the  corner  of  Broad- 
way and  Fifty-first  Street  there  was  a  tall  piece 
of  the  wall  still  standing,  about  two  stories  high, 
and  surmounted  by  an  ornamental  piece  of  stone- 
work. This  bit  of  ruined  wall  swayed  to  and  fro 
as  the  timbers  and  beams  burned  away  and  fell 
with  great  crashes  within. 

Almost  directly  in  front  of  this  remaining  tower 
of  wall,  among  the  steaming  bricks  and  smolder- 
ing woodwork,  were  crouched  a  little  group  of  fire- 
men, directing  a  heavy  stream  of  water  into  the 
roaring  furnace  facing  them.  Their  engine  was 
working  at  full  pressure,  and  the  line  was  a  hard 
one  to  control.  Here  it  may  be  explained  that 
when  these  big  fire-engines  are  working  at  full 


THE  RISKS  OF  A  FIREMAN'S  LIFE 


141 


speed  and  forcing  from  500  to  800  gallons  of  water 
per  minute  through  the  hose,  the  iDressure  of  the 
nozle  is  all  upward  and  backward.  In  order  to 
control  and  direct  the  stream,  the  firemen  throw 
their  full  weight  upon  the  line  and  nozle,  and  it 
usually  takes  from  four  to  six  men  to  manage  such 
a  stream. 

Such  was  the  little  group  that  I  describe.  Be- 
hind  crouched  their  captain,  directing  and  encour- 
aging them,  just  as  an  officer  upon  the  battle-field 
stands  behind  his  men,  directing  their  deadly  fire 
into  the  enemy's  ranks. 

Suddenly  a  heavier  crash  than  usual  came  from 
behind  this  tall  chimney-like  piece  of  wall.  It 
quivered  for  a  moment,  and  then  began  to  fall 
straight  outward,  and,  it  seemed,  directly  over  the 
little  group  in  the  street.  As  it  began  to  totter, 
the  few  privileged  spectators  standing  on  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  street  ran  in  dismay  in  every 
direction;  for  they  feared  that  it  would  reach  clear 
across  and  crash  into  the  houses  opposite.  Glanc- 
ing back  as  they  ran,  they  were  horror-stricken  to 
see  that  the  little  group  of  firemen  had  made  no 
effort  to  escape,  but  were  still  kneeling  in  the  same 
position,  as  if  awaiting  their  fate.  The  crash  came. 
The  street  fairly  shook,  and  volumes  of  red  dust 


142 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


filled  the  air  and  obscured  the  view,  while  the 
flames  for  a  moment  leaped  higher  and  higher, 
as  if  glorying  in  their  victory  over  the  few  brave 
fellows  who  had  been  battling  against  them. 

The  crowd  returned,  sickened  with  the  expecta- 
tion of  finding  the  little  company  of  fire-fighters 
buried  beneath  the  smoking  debris ;  but  when 
the  smoke  and  dust  cleared  away,  there  was  the 
little  band  crouching  over  the  hose  as  before,  and 
facing  the  fire  as  if  nothing  at  all  had  happened. 
Their  captain  bent  over  them  in  the  same  position, 
uttering  a  word  of  encouragement  now  and  then, 
while  the  powerful  stream  was  directed  at  some 
more  effective  point  exposed  by  the  falling  of 
the  wall. 

They  had  watched  it  as  it  fell,  and  had  gaged 
its  distance.  By  a  quick  movement  all  at  once 
they  had  shifted  the  hose  far  enough  to  one  side  to 
dodge  the  wall  as  it  came  down,  and  had  taken 
their  chances  of  getting  hit  by  a  stray  brick  or 
two  rather  than  desert  the  line  at  this  critical  mo- 
ment. To  have  left  it  would  have  meant  almost 
certain  death  to  one  or  more  of  their  number,  for 
a  heavily  charged  line  of  hose,  when  beyond  control, 
twists  about  in  a  serpent-like  manner  with  frightful 
force,  and  a  blow  from  it  is  sufficient  to  kill  a  man. 


THE  RISKS  OF  A  FIREMAN'S  LIFE  145 

They  had  hung  together  and  faced  the  danger 
as  one  man,  and  it  was  a  glorious  exhibition 
of  perfect  discipline  and  indomitable  pluck.  The 
crowd,  realizing  the  nerve  that  it  required  to  stay 
in  such  a  perilous  place,  gave  vent  to  a  confused 
murmur  of  approval.  If  the  firemen  heard  it,  they 
never  gave  any  sign  that  they  did,  but  went  calmly 
on  with  their  work.  Turning  their  heads  neither 
to  the  one  side  nor  to  the  other  but  looking  grimly 
ahead,  they  slashed  the  water  here  and  there  in 
the  blazing  structure  that  was  slowly  turning  to  a 
blackened,  smoking  mass  of  ruins. 

When  two  or  three  companies  are  making  an 
attack  upon  a  fire  and  getting  their  lines  of  hose 
into  position,  mingled  with  the  hoarse  shouts  and 
orders  of  the  officers  will  come  the  familiar  cry  of 
"  Start  your  water!"  followed  by  the  number  of  the 
company  to  which  the  order  is  passed.  This  might 
almost  be  called  the  battle-cry  of  the  men,  for  it 
signals  the  opening  of  the  attack  upon  the  fire,  and 
is  a  demand  for  their  only  protection  and  ammuni- 
tion —  water. 

With  a  "  good  charged  pipe,"  as  they  call  it,  the 
firemen  will  venture  anywhere,  and  attack  any  mass 
of  fire,  no  matter  how  formidable  it  may  seem ;  but 
without  the  aid  of  this  essential  element  they  are 

10 


146 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


utterly  helpless,  and  many  a  company  has  been 
forced  to  desert  the  hose  and  flee  for  their  lives 
because  of  a  bursted  length  in  the  line  or  the  sud- 
den stoppage  of  the  supply  from  some  unknown 
cause. 

In  order  to  facilitate  the  placing  of  lines  of  hose 
in  position,  the  water  is  very  often  not  started  until 
they  have  reached  the  seat  of  the  fire,  especially  if 
it  is  a  hard  one  to  locate.  The  hose  itself  is  heavy 
enough  to  drag  to  the  required  position,  without 
the  added  weight  of  water;  and  if  it  has  to  be 
taken  up  three  or  four  flights  of  stairs,  or  up  a 
fire-escape  or  ladder,  it  is  the  hardest  kind  of  labor, 
and  tugging  at  a  heavy  and  unwieldy  2J-inch  hose 
in  a  smoky  atmosphere,  and  in  the  excitement 
and  hurry  of  getting  to  work,  is  not  the  most 
agreeable  of  work. 

But  when  the  line  is  in  position  and  the  blaze 
is  at  last  reached,  the  order  "  Start  your  water !  ^ 
is  quickly  passed.  This  order  is  passed  along 
the  line,  sometimes  shouted  from  a  window  and 
taken  up  in  the  street  and  shouted  from  one  to  an- 
other until  it  reaches  the  engineer,  who,  opening  a 
"  gate  "  or  valve  on  the  engine,  transforms  the  flat, 
flabby  mass  of  hose  into  a  quivering  thing  of  life^ 
pulsating  with  every  throb  of  the  engine  and  hurl- 


THE  RISKS  OF  A  FIREMAN'S  LIFE  149 


ing  at  the  heart  of  the  fire  its  welcome  ton  or  more 
of  water  every  minute. 

Accustomed  as  the  firemen  are  to  fight  fire  in 
all  its  different  forms,  they  become  inured  to  its 
dangers,  and  will  dash  into  the  most  perilous  posi- 
tion, taking  the  greatest  personal  risk,  without  giv- 
ing it  a  second  thought.  Perhaps  if  they  stopped 
to  think  they  would  not  be  good  firemen. 

One  of  the  rules  of  the  New  York  Fire  Depart- 
ment cautions  the  ofi&cers  not  to  expose  their  men 
to  unnecessary  dangers  or  to  jeopardize  their  lives 
in  any  way  in  extinguishing  fires;  and  they  are 
not  supposed  to  order  the  men  into  any  position 
where  they — the  officers — cannot  go  themselves. 
Although  the  rule  is  generally  observed,  still,  in 
the  excitement  of  making  an  attack  upon  a  fire,  es- 
pecially if  it  is  gaining  headway,  all  such  rules  are 
forgotten,  and  almost  any  risk  or  chance  is  taken 
to  reach  a  good  position  and  get  the  water  applied 
effectively.  Very  often  the  men  themselves,  in 
their  eagerness  to  attack  their  natural  enemy  and 
"  get  a  belt  at  it  with  the  pipe,"  as  they  say  in  their 
own  parlance,  or  to  beat  some  other  company  into 
position  and  win  first  water,"  will  expose  them- 
selves to  great  danger;  and  before  they  actually 
realize  it  they  are  surrounded  on  all  sides  by 


150 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


flames,  with  all  escape  seemingly  cut  off.  When 
caught  in  a  "box"  like  this,  I  have  heard  them 
remark  afterward  that  they  would  mentally  vow 
that  if  they  escaped  alive  they#would  "  resign  from 
the  business "  the  next  day ;  but  when  all  danger 
was  passed  the  vow  was  forgotten,  and  they 
laughed  at  their  own  fears,  and  were  ready  to 
jump  into  places  equally  hazardous. 

Sometimes  they  are  ordered  to  the  roof  of  a 
building  on  fire  "to  ventilate,"  as  they  call  it, — 
-to  break  sky-lights  and  bulkheads  to  relieve  the 
.smoke  inside, —  perhaps  to  drag  into  position  lines 
of  hose  that  have  been  brought  up  from  adjoining 
roofs.  The  fire  may  have  been  burning  in  the 
building  longer  than  the  officer  in  command 
knows.  This  has  weakened  the  supports  of  the 
roof,  and  it  needs  only  the  added  weight  of  the 
men  to  cause  it  to  collapse,  forcing  them  to  jump 
to  adjoining  roofs,  to  slide  down  the  hose  or  lad- 
ders, or  make  their  escape  in  any  possible  way. 

I  once  saw  a  very  exciting  incident  of  this 
kind  at  an  East  Side  factory  fire,  some  years 
ago,  when  a  company  of  men  with  a  line  of 
hose  had  scarcely  reached  the  roof  when  nearly 
all  the  roof  and  part  of  the  rear  side  wall  col- 
lapsed, leaving  them  hanging  or  clinging  to  the 


THE  RISKS  OF  A  FIREMAN'S  LIFE  151 

coping  and  the  part  of  the  roof  still  remaining. 
They  were  forced  to  jump  to  the  roof  of  a  side 
building  some  twenty  feet  below;  and  but  for 
the  heroic  work  of  some  of  their  comrades,  who 
climbed  up  and  rescued  those  clinging  to  the 
shaky  piece  of  roof  that  remained,  they  would 
soon  have  fallen  directly  into  the  main  body  of 
the  fire. 

At  the  big  Bleecker  Street  fire,  some  two  years 
ago,  the  firemen  had  an  experience  they  will  never 
forget.  Six  companies  were  working  in  the  big 
Manhattan  Bank  building  on  the  corner  opposite 
the  fire,  trying  to  prevent  the  flames  from  getting 
a  foothold  there.  The  intense  heat  generated  by 
the  fire  opposite  caused  the  iron  piers  or  beams  on 
the  side  to  twist  and  warp,  and  they  gave  way, 
carrying  down  two  floors.  The  firemen  inside, 
panic-stricken,  not  knowing  what  moment  the 
whole  structm^e  would  collapse,  had  to  make  their 
escape  as  best  they  could,  jumping  across  the  gap 
where  the  stairs  had  been  (the  steps  were  carried 
away  by  the  falling  of  the  floors),  or  sliding 
down  the  hose  on  the  outside  of  the  building  from 
the  fifth  and  sixth  floors ! 

Many  men  were  injured  in  escaping  in  this 
manner ;  and  the  only  wonder  was  that  a  number 


152 


FIGHTING  A  FIEE 


were  not  killed.  The  experience  the  men  had  at 
this  fire  will  last  them  a  lifetime;  bnt  it  is  only 
another  example  of  the  risks  and  dangers  that 
make  np  the  fireman's  life. 


PETER  SPOTS— FIREMAN. 


HIS  is  how  Joe,  the  driver  of  the  engine,  told 
me  the  story  of  Peter  Spots : 


"  How  did  we  get  him  ! — well,  I  don't  remember 
exactly.  Let  me  see.  It  was  about  three  years 
ago  or  more  —  maybe  more  —  and  —  oh,  yes,  Billy 
has  it  right.  He  was  chased  in  there  one  night  by 
a  lot  of  boys.  Now  I  do  remember,  and  mighty 
well  too.  Bob  was  on  watch  that  night.  You  see 
Bob  's  my  partner,  or  '  relief,'  as  we  call  it.  He 
drives  the  engine  when  I  am  on  my  *  day  off '  or 
out  to  my  meals.  We  always  have  at  least  two 
drivers,  sometimes  more,  both  for  the  engine  and 
tender,  in  case  one  is  *oi¥,'  or  out  of  the  house, 
when  we  get  a  'run,'  as  we  call  an  alarm  of  fire. 

"  Yes,  Bob  was  on  watch,  and  he  and  I  and  Billy 
were  standing  over  there  beside  the  '  trip '  talking. 
Billy  was  telling  us  one  of  his  yarns.  He  's  the 
oracle  of  the  company,  and  an  old-timer  from  the 

153 


154 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


days  of  the  old  Volunteers.  Born  and  raised  up 
the  State  somewhere,  he  belonged  to  the  fire  bri- 
gade in  his  native  town  before  he  came  to  New 
York.  In  those  days  all  the  apparatus  they  had  to 
fight  a  fire  with  was  a  few  buckets  and  a  sponge. 
The  sponge  was  used  to  cool  the  boys  off  when 
they  got  too  excited,  having  arguments  as  to  who 
was  to  put  out  the  fire  —  at  least  that 's  what  Billy 
says.  Then  Billy  came  to  the  city  and  joined  the 
old  Volunteers ;  and  when  this  department  was  or- 
ganized in  1864,  he  drifted  in  with  the  rest  of  the 
old-timers,  and  has  been  a  fixture  ever  since.  But 
he  is  pretty  well  worn  out  now,  been  overcome 
with  smoke  so  many  times,  had  his  arms  and  legs 
broken  in  several  places,  falling  down  hatchways 
and  off  ladders,  and  such  like;  and  he  's  gotten 
the  '  dose '  so  much  he  is  full  of  rheumatism. 

"  The  '  dose '  is  what  we  call  getting  chuck  full 
of  smoke  in  a  cellar-fire,  or  getting  soaked  with 
water  while  doing  ladder- work  in  the  winter  time. 
Standing  at  the  peak  of  a  ladder  and  a  heavy 
stream  working  over  your  head,  you  get  the  drip- 
pings of  that  stream  for  two  or  three  hours,  and 
maybe  the  full  force  of  it,  once  in  a  while,  and 
you  won't  have  a  dry  stitch  on  you;  and  if  the 
thermometer  is  down  about  zero,  it  11  be  apt  to 


PETER  SPOTS  —  FIREMAN 


157 


leave  you  with  a  touch  of  rheumatism.  That  's 
the  way  Billy  got  his.  But  I  am  getting  away 
from  my  story  about  Peter.  Yes,  Billy  was  telling 
one  of  his  old  yarns,  something  about  his  com- 
pany, the  Pioneer  Hose,  '  washing '  Big  Six  in  the 
days  of  the  old  department. 

"  Big  Six  was  one  of  the  crack  companies  at  the 
time ;  and  ^  washing '  consisted  of  pumping  more 
water  into  a  rival  company's  engine  than  they 
could  pump  out,^  and  the  boys  were  as  proud  of 
having  '  washed '  a  rival's  engine  in  those  days  as 
we  are  to-day  of  beating  another  company  in  their 
own  territory  and  getting  '  first  water '  over  them, 
which  we  take  great  pride  in  doing. 

"Well,  Billy  was  telling  us  this  yarn  —  we  'd 
only  heard  it  about  forty  or  fifty  times  before  ;  but 
we  did  n't  say  nothing,  only  made  believe  it  was 
all  new  to  us ;  for  it  did  n't  do  us  no  harm  to  listen 
to  it,  and  it  gave  li'im  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  to 

1  Washing"  a  rival  company  occurred  in  the  days  of  the  Volun- 
teer Fire  Department,  when  the  companies  were  obliged  to  get  water 
from  a  distance  to  extinguish  a  fire.  They  would  sling  out  in  a  line 
toward  the  scene  of  action,  and  pump  from  one  engine  to  another  until 
they  reached  the  fire ;  and  if  one  of  the  companies  nearest  the  source 
of  the  water,  usually  a  cistern,  or  perhaps  the  river,  pumped  harder 
than  the  next  one,  they  would  force  more  water  into  their  rival's 
reservoir  than  the  latter  could  pump  out;  consequently  it  would 
overflow,  and  that  was  what  they  called  "washing"  another  com- 
pany. 


158 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


tell  it,  and  he  had  told  it  so  many  times  I  guess  he 
half  began  to  think  it  really  happened ;  but  I  did 
not  take  much  stock  in  it  myself.  All  of  a  sudden 
there  came  a  ki-yi-ing  of  a  dog  out  in  the  street, 
and  a  hollering  of  a  lot  of  boys,  and  something 
came  flying  in  through  the  open  doors  and  took 
refuge  over  there,  in  a  corner  of  the  *  hose-tower.' 
'  A  mad  dog ! '  says  Billy ;  and  with  that  a  crowd 
of  boys  ran  up  to  the  doorway  and  began  waving 
sticks  and  a-shouting  and  hollering  like  mad ;  and 
I  really  think  if  we  had  n't  been  there  they  would 
have  marched  right  in  and  yanked  the  poor  fellow 
out.  As  it  was,  one  leaned  over  the  chain  and 
shied  a  stone  at  the  corner  where  he  was  hiding, 
and  I  shouted,  ^  Clear  out  o'  here,  you  rapscal- 
lions ! '  But  bless  you,  sir,  they  did  n't  mind  that 
—  not  much.  They  were  a  hard  lot  from  down 
the  avenue  a  bit;  and  we  have  a  good  deal  of 
trouble  with  them.  It  is  only  luck  that  we  have 
not  run  over  half  a  dozen  or  more  of  them  when 
we  are  turning  out.  Seeing  that  did  n't  have  no 
effect  on  them,  I  reached  for  my  whip  on  the  en- 
gine, and  started  for  the  crowd ;  and  you  ought  to 
have  seen  them  *  dust.'  Why,  when  I  got  to  the 
pavement  there  was  n't  a  sign  of  them  anywhere. 
They  disappeared  like  the  wind.    I  then  came 


PETER  SPOTS  —  FIREMAN 


159 


back,  and  putting  the  whip  up  in  place  again,  I 
went  over  to  see  what  kind  of  a  dog  it  was.  Billy 
calls  out :  '  Look  out,  Joe  !  Maybe  he  's  mad ! ' 
But  I  says:  'Not  much;  only  frightened  a  bit.' 
And  I  knelt  down  beside  him. 

''  He  was  crouching  in  the  corner  licking  a  place 
on  his  hind  leg  where  one  of  the  villains  had  hit 
him  with  a  stone.  At  first  he  growled  a  little ;  but 
I  spoke  kindly  to  him,  and  seeing  he  was  n't  going 
to  get  hurt,  he  began  wagging  his  tail  in  a  friendly 
sort  of  way  and  shaking  his  head  back  and  forth  as 
if  he  kneAv  me. 

"Billy  came  over,  and  looking  at  him  says: 
'  Why,  he  's  a  coach  dog,  and  not  a  bad-looking 
fellow  either,  only  he  has  n't  seen  a  square  meal 
for  some  time.  I  '11  bet  those  varmints  of  boys 
have  half  scared  the  life  out  o'  him.  Say,  Joe,  he 
would  be  a  good  dog  for  the  house.  Why,  I  re- 
member when  I  was  down  in  17  Engine  — '  but  at 
this  moment  the  Captain  came  in  and  I  was  spared 
another  one  of  Billy's  yarns. 

"  '  Captain,'  says  I,  '  would  you  like  a  dog  I  • 

"'No,  I  guess  not,'  says  he,  slowly;  'we  have 
killed  all  the  dogs  we  ever  had  —  run  over  them, 
and  then,  he  would  be  getting  in  the  way  of  the 
horses  when  we  're  turning  out,  and  — ' 


160 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


"  ^  No,'  chimes  in  Billy.  '  He 's  a  coach-dog  and 
used  to  horses ;  he  would  n't  be  in  the  way.' 

"  ^  Where  did  you  get  him  ! '  says  the  Captain. 

" '  He  run  in  here  a  few  moments  ago.  Some 
boys  chased  him  in,'  says  I. 

" '  Well,  he  '11  run  out  again,  the  first  chance  he 
gets,'  replied  the  Captain. 

"  *  I  don't  think  so,'  says  I.  '  He 's  been  badly 
treated,  and  if  we  give  him  something  to  eat  and 
treat  him  right  he  will  stay  with  us,  I  think,  and 
if  any  one  wants  to  come  and  claim  him,  and  can 
prove  that  he  is  theirs,  they  can  have  him.' 

"By  this  time  the  Captain  was  interested,  and 
he 's  as  good-hearted  a  man  as  ever  wore  a  leather 
hat,  and  fond  of  horses  and  dogs  and  all  kinds  of 
animals,  so  he  leans  over  and  says  to  Peter,  who 
was  sitting  there  looking  so  solemn :  '  Would  you 
like  to  be  a  fireman's  dog  ? ' 

I  '11  eat  my  hat  if  I  don't  think  he  knew  what 
the  Captain  said;  for  he  put  his  two  front  paws 
forward  and  rubbed  his  nose  up  and  down  between 
them,  as  much  as  to  say  :  ^  Yes.' 

" '  What 's  his  name ! "  says  the  Captain. 

"  Billy  and  1  shook  our  heads,  and  I  says,  '  We 
don't  know.' 

" '  What 's  your  name  ? '  says  the  Captain,  look- 
ing right  at  him. 


il 


PETER  SPOTS  — FIREMAN 


163 


"  He  looked  back  as  if  he  wanted  to  speak,  and 
opened  his  mouth  and  moved  his  tongue  from  one 
side  to  another  as  if  trying  to  say  something. 

" '  That  ain't  loud  enough,'  hollers  the  Captain, 
laughing.    '  What 's  your  name  I ' 

"  This  time  the  dog  gave  one  short  bark. 

"'That  sounds  like  Pete,'  said  Billy;  'there  's 
only  one  syllable  in  it ! ' —  Billy 's  a  smart  one  even 
if  he  is  an  old-timer. 

"  '  Well,  Pete  it  is,'  says  the  Captain.  '  All  right, 
boys,  take  care  of  him  —  and  Joe,  see  that  you 
don't  run  over  him.  And  Bob,' —  giving  a  wink  to 
me  (Bob  was  sitting  at  the  desk), — '  put  him  down 
in  the  house- journal  as  a  new  member,  and  see 
that  he  responds  on  the  floor  at  roll-call  in  the 
morning, —  and  Billy,  here,' — he  put  his  hand  in 
his  pocket  and  pulled  out  a  quarter,  and  tossed  it 
to  him, —  'go  round  to  McNally's  restaurant  and 
get  him  something  to  eat  —  we  can't  let  a  new 
member  go  hungry,  can  we,  boys  f  " 

"  That  was  just  like  the  Captain ;  he  would  n't 
let  any  one  go  hungry  —  let  alone  a  poor  dumb 
animal. 

"  Bob  had.opened  the  book  and  was  putting  him 
down  in  the  'journal,'  as  serious  as  a  judge. 

"  'Fireman  of  the  thkd  grade,  Captain? '  he  sung 
out. 


164 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


" '  Yes,'  says  the  Captain,  '  fireman  of  the  third 
grade.' 

"  '  Peter — '  and  then  Bob  stopped.  ^  Peter  what  ?' 
says  he. 

" '  I  don't  know,'  says  the  Captain,  and  he  looked 
at  me. 

" '  Well,'  chimes  in  Billy,  '  he 's  all  over  black 
spots.   I    call  him  Peter  Spots ! ' 

" '  That 's  right,'  says  the  Captain ;  ^  Billy,  you  're 
a  jewel ;  Peter  Spots  it  is.  And  now,  go  and  get 
him  something  to  eat,  or  he  '11  starve  to  death  be- 
fore we  get  him  down  in  the  journal.' 

"And  down  he  went  in  the  books  as  'Peter 
Spots,  new  member,'  and  that 's  how  he  came  to 
join  our  company. 

"  The  first  night  he  was  with  us  we  did  n't  have 
any  'calls,'  and  after  getting  a  good  meal  from 
what  Billy  brought  back  he  crawled  over  there,  he- 
hind  one  of  the  stalls,  and  went  to  sleep  —  the  first 
good  night's  sleep,  I  guess,  he  'd,  had  for  a  long 
while.  The  next  morning  he  was  up  early,  as 
frisky  as  could  be,  playing  with  the  man  on  watch 
and  a-cntting  up  high  jinks  around  here,  for  you 
see  he  was  a  young  dog  and  pla^^ul-like.  Just 
then  a  station  came  in  —  the  gong  began  to  hit  — 
and  we  came  piling  down  from  above.    The  horses 


PETER  SPOTS  —  FIREMAN 


165 


riislied  out,  and  the  racket  kind  o'  scared  him,  —  it 
came  so  sudden, —  and  he  went  sneaking  off  to  the 
back  of  the  house,  with  his  tail  hanging  down  as  if 
he  was  afraid  he 'd  knocked  something  over  and 
caused  all  the  hubbub. 

"  The  station  did  n't  touch  us,  though,  and  we 
did  n't  go  —  that  is,  not  on  the  first  alarm,  but  it 
was  one  of  our  second-alarm  stations,  and  while 
we  were  waiting,  for  we  always  keep  the  horses 
hitched  up  and  wait  on  the  floor  for  ten  minutes 
on  all  stations  that  we  are  '  due  on '  on  the  second 
alarm,  the  Captain  says :  '  Where 's  the  new  mem- 
ber ? '  but  nobody  knew,  so  we  all  shook  our  heads. 

"  The  house-watchman  said  the  last  he  saw  of 
him  he  was  skipping  off  toward  the  back  of  the 
floor  when  the  'joker'  began  to  ring,  and  we 
looked  all  over,  but  could  n't  find  him  anywhere, 
and  the  Captain  declared  he 'd  run  away,  just  as 
he  said  he  would.  But  finally,  about  twenty  min- 
utes after,  when  we  got  the  Hest  call,'  which  is 
eleven  taps  that  we  get  every  morning  at  8  o'clock, 
from  headquarters,  to  see  that  the  wires  are  all  in 
working  order,  and  which  also  serves  as  the  'roll 
call '  of  the  company,  and  is  the  beginning  of  an- 
other day's  '  watches,'  he  came  crawling  out  of  the 
furnace  of  that  spare  engine,  that  we  keep  over 


166 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


there  in  the  corner,  where  he  had  hid  himself,  and 
sneaking  along  the  stalls  he  came  over  to  us,  look- 
ing very  sheepish  and  ashamed.  The  Captain, 
winking  at  me,  hollered  at  him:  'You  're  a  nice 
fireman,  you  are.  If  you  don't  respond  in  better 
order  at  roll-call  in  the  morning  after  this,  we  '11 
have  you  up  before  the  Commissioners,  and  have 
you  fined  five  days'  pay ! ' 

"But  Billy  spoke  up  and  took  his  part,  and 
said : 

"  '  Don't  be  hard  on  him,  Captain.  He 's  a  new 
member,  and  new  members  are  always  nervous. 
Why,  that  gong  would  give  most  any  one  the 
heart-disease,  hearing  it  the  first  time,  it  comes  so 
suddint !  Why,  I  remember  when  I  was  down  in 
5  Truck,  we  had  a  new  member  on,  an'  the  first 
time  he  — '  but  the  Captain  cut  him  short,  saying, 
'  You 'd  better  go  to  breakfast,  Billy ;  you  're  the 
first  one  off  this  morning ' ;  and  so  another  one  of 
Billy's  stories  was  spoiled. 

"The  first  run  we  made  after  getting  him,  he 
did  n't  go  with  us,  and  we  were  wondering  when 
we  were  rolling  home  whether  we  would  find  him 
in  the  engine-house  on  our  return,  or  whether  he 
had  turned  out  with  us  and  we  had  lost  him  on  the 
way  to  the  fire;  for  we  ain't  over  particular  in 


PETER  OX  DUTY. 


PETER  SPOTS  —  FIREMAN 


169 


taking  notice  of  things  around  us  when  we  are 
getting  out  when  an  alarm  of  fire  comes  in.  The 
first  idea  is  to  get  out,  and  that  as  quickly  as  pos- 
sible ;  and  as  we  had  all  got  interested  in  Peter,  we 
were  anxious  to  see  whether  he  had  deserted  us  or 
not ;  but  when  we  opened  the  door  of  the  house, 
out  he  came  bounding,  jumping  up  at  all  of  us, 
and  barking  away,  as  much  as  to  say :  '  Well,  did 
you  put  out  the  fire !  Sorry  I  was  n't  with  you,' 
or  something  like  that;  for  to  me  he  is  so  smart 
that  I  think  he  is  trying  to  talk  all  the  time,  in  his 
own  way.  And  now  —  well,  bless  you,  sir,  he  's 
the  first  one  out  of  the  house.  The  instant  the 
gong  begins  to  ring,  he  takes  his  position  right 
there,  under  the  front  truck  of  the  engine,  and 
there  he  stands  —  with  eyes  wide  open,  ears  up, 
and  tail  sticking  right  straight  out,  he  watches 
me.  The  moment  I  start  for  the  seat,  lie 's  off  like 
a  shot  for  the  end  of  the  pole  between  the  horses, 
barking  like  mad ;  for  he  knows  we  are  going  out 
or  I  would  n't  jump  for  the  seat.  When  the  doors 
open,  out  he  goes  like  a  bullet  from  a  gun ;  and 
if  there  is  any  one  passing  or  standing  outside,  he 
clears  them  away  in  short  order ;  and  there 's  very 
little  danger  of  running  over  any  one  so  long  as  we 
have  him  ahead  of  us,  for  he  clears  the  way  better 


170 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


than  two  or  three  men  could.  All  the  way  to  the 
fire  he  keeps  half  a  block  or  more  ahead. 

"  And  now  let  me  tell  you  how  smart  he  is ;  for 
no  matter  how  rough  the  street  may  be,  no  matter 
how  dirty,  muddy,  or  slushy  it  is,  nor  how  the 
stones  may  hurt  his  feet,  on  he  goes,  and  never 
leaves  it;  but  when  we  are  coming  home,  bless 
your  life !  the  street  is  n't  good  enough  for  him, 
and  you  can't  get  him  into  it,  no  matter  how  you 
may  coax.  No,  sir;  he  takes  the  sidewalk  back, 
and  walks  along  as  quiet  and  dignified  as  can  be, 
scarcely  ever  noticing  any  other  dog  on  his  way; 
for  I  think  he  feels  he  is  much  more  important 
than  they  are,  and  that  they  are  not  in  his  class  at 
all.  Nor  does  he  stop  when  we  get  to  the  fire ; 
but  he  follows  us  right  up  in  the  building,  down  a 
basement,  or  up  a  ladder  —  ah,  now  I  see  you 
are  laughing,  and  don't  believe  what  I  am  telling 
you,  but  it  is  a  fact.  He  can  climb  a  ladder  with 
the  best  of  us,  providing  it  ain't  too  high  a  one,  and 
follows  us  right  in  with  the  4ine';  but  he  can't 
come  doivn  a  ladder ;  he  has  n't  the  knack  of  that 
yet,  and  that 's  where  the  trouble  comes  in.  Many 
's  the  time  we  've  gone  up  and  brought  him  out, 
overcome  with  smoke,  and,  carrying  him  down,  laid 
him  in  the  wagon  to  get  over  it. 


PETER  SPOTS  —  FIREMAN 


171 


"  And  many the  time  the  Chief  has  said  to  us : 
*  Some  of  you  fellows  will  be  losing  your  lives  yet, 
with  that  dog!'  But,  pshaw!  sir,  we  would  as 
soon  think  of  leaving  one  of  the  company  behind 
as  leave  Peter ;  for  he  is  one  of  the  company,  al- 
though he 's  only  a  dog. 

"  And  he 's  taken  his  dose  with  the  best  of  us. 
Got  full  of  smoke  lots  of  times,  and  soaked  with 
water  over  and  over  again.  Came  home  one  night 
with  his  tail  frozen  stiff.  Grot  drenched  at  a  cellar- 
fire,  and  as  it  was  a  bitter  cold  night  it  froze  on 
him  on  his  way  back.  He  was  on  the  sick-list  for 
a  long  while  after  that,  and  we  had  him  tied  up  in 
the  cellar  near  the  furnace,  thawing  out,  and  all 
done  up  in  bandages;  but  he  came  out  all  right. 
Then  we  knocked  him  out  of  a  window,  one  night, 
with  a  line.  He  was  standing  on  the  sill,  and  we 
were  making  a  quick  movement  to  get  from  one 
room  to  another.  There  was  good  pressure  on, 
and  we  had  a  heavy  stream  to  handle ;  and  just  as 
we  made  a  quick  turn  to  get  a  'belt'  at  another 
room  that  was  blazing  up  lively,  we  hit  Peter, 
standing  on  the  window-sill,  square  with  the 
stream.  Out  he  went  sailing  clear  into  the  middle 
of  the  street,  like  as  if  he 'd  been  shot  from  a  can- 
non.   We  thought  he  was  done  for  that  time,  sure; 


172 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


but  when  we  ^  backed  out/  about  twenty  minutes 
after,  there  he  was,  a  little  lame,  but  nearly  as 
lively  as  ever.  There  was  considerable  snow  in 
the  street,  and  that  saved  him. 

"  And  burns  !  Well,  say,  his  back  is  all  tattooed 
from  the  burns  he  's  caught.  What  with  falling 
plaster  and  bits  of  burning  wood,  he  is  all  covered 
with  bare  places  where  the  hair  will  never  grow 
again ;  but  those  are  service-marks,  and  I  tell  you 
he 's  a  veteran  and  proud  of  them. 

"  But  poor  Peter  got  into  disrepute  one  time  and 
was  ^suspended  from  active  duty';  and  I  must  tell 
you  about  it,  for  it  is  one  of  the  events  of  his  life, 
and  shows  that  a  dog  never  forgets. 

"  It  came  about  this  way :  we  always  had  a  repu- 
tation for  being  a  lively  company  —  of  turning  out 
in  good  order  and  quickly,  of  keeping  all  stations 
that  we  were  due  on  first,  and  not  losing  any  of 
them  to  the  other  companies  above  and  below  us 
through  slowness,  and  of  always  being  found  in  a 
*good  position'  by  the  Chief  when  he  arrived  at 
the  fire — something*  our  Captain  has  taken  a  great 
deal  of  pride  in  ;  but  there  came  a  time  when  every- 
thing went  wrong  with  us,  and  Peter,  without 
meaning  any  harm,  helped  it  along.  We  got  a  new 
team  of  horses  for  the  engine,  and  were  breaking 


PETER  ON  "HOUSE-WATCH." 


PETER  SPOTS  —  FIREMAN 


175 


them  in ;  they  were  pretty  slow  at  first,  and  it  was 
(juite  a  job,  and  it  was  as  much  as  I  could  do  to  get 
a  '  run '  out  of  them,  and  Peter  got  in  a  bad  habit 
of  jumping  up  at  them  and  biting  at  their  chests 
when  we  were  on  our  way  to  a  fire.  I  suppose  he 
thought  he  would  make  them  go  faster  by  doing 
this;  but  this  only  made  matters  worse,  and  in- 
stead of  increasing  their  speed  they  would  balk 
and  stop  altogether. 

"  I  tried  to  break  him  of  it,  but — no  use.  I  fixed 
a  long  lash  to  my  whip  and  would  touch  him  with 
it,  but  it  did  n't  make  any  difference ;  and  I  knew 
there  would  be  trouble  if  he  did  n't  stop,  for  we 
kept  losing  fires  that  were  easily  ours,  and  to  save 
Peter  I  kept  blaming  it  on  the  horses,  and  told  the 
Captain  it  would  be  all  right  when  we  got  the  team 
broken  in.  Finally  there  came  a  day  when  every- 
thing went  against  us. 

"We  received  an  alarm  of  fire  from  a  station 
above  here  that  should  have  been  ours  without 
any  trouble.  You  see,  sir,  there  is  a  great  deal  of 
rivalry  among  the  companies  about  getting  to  a 
fire  when  an  alarm  comes  in.  The  next  company 
above  here  lays  about  fifteen  blocks  away;  the 
next  one  below,  about  eighteen  blocks.  We  claim 
everything  half  the  distance  either  way.    If  we 


17G 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


can  hitch  up  a  little- quicker  than  they  can,  and 
make  better  time,  we  can  get  fires  away  from  either 
of  the  other  companies;  for  the  first  company  to 
arrive  '  gets  the  fire,' —  that  is,  gets  '  first  water,'  as 
we  call  it, — and  there  is  a  great  deal  of  '  crowing' 
done  when  we  beat  another  company  in  their  own 
territory,  and  we  feel  very  cheap  when  we  get 
beaten  ourselves. 

"Well,  that  's  the  way  it  was  on  the  day  that 
Peter  got  suspended.  The  alarm  came  in  from  a 
station  that  was  in  our  half  of  the  territory, —  a 
fire  that  ought  to  have  been  ours  easily,  but  the 
harness  got  jammed  —  would  not  come  down  on 
the  horses;  then  when  we  started,  the  horses 
shied,  and  we  came  near  killing  our  lieutenant, 
who  was  opening  the  doors.  This  got  the  engine 
crooked,  so  that  we  could  not  get  through  the  door- 
way, and  we  had  to  back  her  before  we  could  get 
out,  and  I  tell  you  everything  went  wrong.  We 
only  lost  a  few  seconds  by  these  mishaps,  but  it 
was  enough  to  lose  us  the  station. 

"  When  we  finally  got  out  and  got  going  up  the 
avenue,  I  tried  to  make  up  for  lost  time  by  giving 
the  horses  all  the  rein  I  could,  and  giving  them 
the  whip  once  in  a  while,  but  Peter  was  so  excited 
by  this  time  at  the  delay,  that  he  began  jumping 


PETER  SPOTS  — FIREMAN 


177 


at  the  horses'  chests  and  biting  at  them,  and  they 
balked  so  they  would  n't  go  at  all.  I  suppose  he 
meant  well  enough,  and  wanted  them  to  go  faster, 
but  he  only  made  matters  worse;  and  when  I  got 
to  the  fire  there  was  our  rival  company  at  work, — 
line  stretched  in,~  and  making  all  kinds  of  mean 
remarks  as  we  pulled  up  at  a  hydrant.  Even  the 
Chief  was  there,  and  he  gave  our  Captain  an  awful 
facing' — wanted  to  know  'if  we  were  all  asleep 
down  at  our  quarters,'  and  '  if  we  thought  we  were 
going  to  a  funeral,  that  we  took  so  much  time ! ' 
This  almost  broke  the  old  man's  heart,  and  I  tell 
you  I  never  felt  so  cheap  in  all  my  life  as  I  did 
when  I  found  how  late  we  were. 

"  When  we  got  back  to  quarters  again  we  all  got 
a  lecture  from  the  Captain,  and  then  he  took  me 
aside  and  said : 

" '  Joe,  I  don't  like  to  do  it,  but  we  must  get  rid 
of  Peter.  He 's  bothering  the  horses  a  good  deal, 
and  I  cannot  take  any  more  chances  like  that 
to-day.  If  I  lose  any  more  fires,  you  know  what 
will  happen.'  And  he  looked  at  me  hard,  and  I 
nodded  my  head ;  for  I  knew  that  meant  a  transfer 
for  him  to  another  company.  Then  he  went  on  to 
say:  'You  look  for  some  nice  person  to  give  him 
to,  some  one  who  will  take  good  care  of  him,  and 

12 


178 


FIGHTING  A  FIKE 


some  one  who  lives  some  distance  from  here.  You' 
know,  if  we  give  him  to  any  one  in  the  neighbor- 
hood he  '11  be  back  in  fifteen  minutes.  Meanwhile^ 
he  is  not  to  turn  out  with  us  any  more.  So  tie 
him  up  until  you  find  some  one  to  take  him.'  And 
so  Peter  was  suspended  from  active  duty. 

"It  happened  that  I  knew  the  very  person  to 
turn  him  over  to.  There  was  a  baker  who  deliv- 
ered bread  to  some  of  the  houses  around  here,  and 
whose  shop  was  quite  a  ways  from  here, —  about 
thirty  or  forty  blocks, —  and  in  a  street  we  were 
not  apt  to  go  through.  He  had  taken  a  great  lik- 
ing to  Peter,  and  had  offered  to  buy  him  several 
times,  and,  of  course,  we  had  always  refused. 
Peter  had  also  gotten  to  like  the  baker  very  much^ 
for  he  brought  Peter,  every  once  in  a  while,  an 
odd  kind  of  bread  that  Peter  was  very  fond  of. 
So  that  night,  at  my  supper-hour,  I  took  Peter 
down  to  his  bake-shop,  and  transferred  the  smart- 
est dog  in  the  Fire  Department  from  an  engine- 
house  to  a  bakery  —  a  big  come-down,  I  tell  you. 

"At  first  we  missed  him  a  good  deal;  but  in  a 
big  Fire  Department  you  get  so  used  to  changes 
and  transfers  from  one  company  to  another  that 
in  time  you  get  so  you  don't  miss  anything  or  any- 
body.   So  it  was  with  Peter;  and  though  we  all 


PETER  SPOTS  — FIREMAN 


181 


liked  him,  we  knew  he  was  with  some  one  who 
would  take  good  care  of  him.  I  went  down  to  see 
him  whenever  I  got  a  chance,  and  found  he  was 
getting  along  nicely,  although  I  could  see  he  was 
broken  in  spirit;  and  no  wonder.  Think  of  it! 
After  the  excitement  of  life  in  a  fire-engine  house, 
with  the  gongs  a-hitting,  the  horses  a-prancing, 
and  the  men  a-shouting,  to  have  to  knuckle  down 
to  life  in  a  dry  old  bakery,  with  nothing  but  a 
lazy  Dutchman  and  a  lot  of  crullers  and  cream- 
puffs  for  company,  is  enough  to  break  any  one's 
spirit,  and  I  felt  sorry  for  Peter. 

"  "We  had  almost  forgotten  about  Peter,  and  got 
used  to  not  having  him  around,  when  one  day  a 
third  alarm  came  in  that  took  us  out;  and  in 
getting  to  the  station  I  had  to  drive  through  the 
street  the  baker's  place  was  on.  Never  thought  of 
it  myself,  but  you  can  bet  Peter  had  n't  forgotten 
us ;  and  when  we  made  our  appearance  he  showed 
up  pretty  quick.  The  baker  told  me  all  about  it 
afterward,  and  this  was  the  way  it  happened: 
Peter  was  lying  asleep  beside  the  stove  in  the  cen- 
ter of  the  bake-shop,  when  all  of  a  sudden  he 
pricked  up  one  ear,  and  then  jumped  on  his  feet 
and  gave  a  bark.  The  baker  was  making  out 
some  bills  behind  the  counter,  and  thought  noth- 


182 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


ing  of  it  until  the  next  moment  Peter  gave  one 
jump,  and  was  in  the  show-window  among  the  pies 
and  cakes  and  such  Hke.  The  baker  hollered  to 
him  to  get  out;  but  Peter  began  to  claw  at  the 
window,  and  bark  and  howl.  You  see  he  could 
hear  our  whistle  and  bell  and  had  recognized  us. 
Then  the  baker  made  up  his  mind  that  the  dog 
had  gone  mad,  and  was  frightened  and  got  up  on  a 
chair,  and  began  to  holler  himself;  and  what  be- 
tween the  baker  and  Peter  there  was  a  high  old 
time  in  that  bake-shop  for  a  while.  Every  time 
Peter  gave  a  kick,  he  knocked  a  pie  or  a  plate  full 
of  cakes  out  of  the  window,  until  he  had  it  clear  of 
everything.  Then  we  hove  in  sight,  and  through 
the  side  of  the  show-window  he  saw  us  and  recog- 
nized me  in  the  seat^  and  that  settled  it  —  no  bake- 
shop  could  hold  him  then.  He  jumped  back  in 
the  store,  braced  himself  plumb  in  front  of  the 
pane  of  glass  in  the  door,  and  when  we  were  just 
about  opposite  he  gave  one  last  howl,  and — crash ! 
out  he  came,  through  glass  and  all. 

"  I  heard  the  racket,  and  turned  my  head  just  in 
time  to  see  him  come  flying  out.  I  understood  it  all 
in  a  moment,  and  expected  to  see  him  roll  over  dead 
in  the  gutter.  But  not  much !  He  came  through 
so  quick  he  scarcely  got  a  scratch;  and  away  he 


"crash!  out  he  came,  through  glass  and  all!" 


PETER  SPOTS  —  FIREMAN 


185 


went  down  the  street  ahead  of  us,  barking  at  every- 
one, and  clearing  the  way  just  as  he  used  to,  and 
running  around  in  a  circle  and  jumping  high  in 
the  air  and  cutting  up  gymnastics — and  happy?  — 
well,  I  just  guess  he  was  happy.  Even  the  Captain 
heard  him  in  all  the  racket  behind  the  engine,  and 
let  up  on  the  whistle  long  enough  to  holler  ahead 
to  me  to  look  out  and  not  run  over  him ;  but  there 
was  small  fear  of  that,  for  he  beat  us  by  half  a 
block  all  the  way  to  the  fire. 

"  When  we  got  there  we  '  stretched  in  and  stood 
fast,'  as  we  call  it,  which  means  we  stretched  in  the 
hose  and  got  ready  to  go  to  work  when  so  or- 
dered ;  but  they  did  n't  need  us,  for  the  fire  was 
pretty  well  out  then,  and  the  third  alarm  had  only 
been  sent  as  a  sort  of  precaution ;  so  in  a  few  mo- 
ments the  Chief  ordered  us  back  to  quarters. 

"When  we  were  'picking  up,'  or  putting  the 
hose  back  in  the  wagon,  Peter  was  round  among 
us  like  old  times,  and  every  one  of  the  '  gang '  had 
a  kind  word  for  him.  He  was  cut  a  bit  about  the 
back  with  glass,  so  the  Captain  says :  '  Throw  him 
in  the  wagon,  boys,  and  we  '11  take  him  back  to 
the  house,  and  mend  him  up.  I  '11  put  him  on 
probation ;  and  if  he  acts  right  he  can  stay  with 
us  as  long  as  he  likes.'    And  then  he  adds :  '  But 


186 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


you  fellows  will  have  to  chip  in  and  pay  for  that 
pane  of  glass.'  And  we  all  laughed;  for  we  were 
willing  to  pay  for  a  whole  window  to  get  Peter 
back  again. 

"  Well,  I  guess  I 've  tired  you  almost  out  telling 
you  about  Peter's  trials  and  troubles ;  but  you  see, 
sir,  we  are  all  so  fond  of  him  we  never  get  tired 
talking  about  him  to  any  one  who  cares  to  hear. 
Now  he  's  settled  down  and  got  to  be  a  regular 
fixture  —  no  more  pranks  or  tricks  —  steady  as  an 
old-timer.  He  got  all  over  bothering  the  horses. 
Never  did  so  after  we  got  him  back ;  and  anyway, 
he  don't  get  much  chance  now.  We 've  got  one  of 
the  quickest  teams  in  the  business,  and  they  can 
race  a  mile  with  that  old  five  tons  of  machinery 
behind  them  with  any  other  team  in  the  Depart- 
ment; and  Peter  has  all  he  can  do  to  keep  from 
getting  run  over;  so  he  gives  them  a  wide  berth. 
When  we  catch  a  fire  in  a  butcher-shop  he  takes 
full  charge,  and  we  always  turn  it  right  over  to 
him.  He 's  very  busy  then.  But  when  we  strike 
a  fire  in  a  bakery  —  not  much !  You  could  n't  get 
him  to  go  near  it  for  love  or  money.  He  always 
gets  right  up  in  the  hose-wagon,  on  the  driver's 
seat,  and  won't  budge  for  any  one ;  and  if  you  go 
near  him,  after  the  fire  is  out,  and  make  believe 


PETEE  SPOTS  —  FIREMAN 


187 


you  're  going  to  grab  him  and  carry  him  in  the 
bakery,  maybe  he  won't  growl  and  show  his 
teeth ! — well,  I  just  guess !  He  is  n't  going  to  take 
any  more  chances  of  getting  shut  up  with  crullers 
and  cakes  for  company. 

"  Cute  I  Well,  I  should  say  so  —  why,  when 
Dauchey's  wagon  drives  up  now  (that 's  the  baker 
who  had  him  for  a  while),  and  Peter  sees  it,  he  has 
important  business  down  in  the  cellar,  and  nothing 
can  get  him  out  of  there  except  an  alarm  of  fire. 
He  knows  that  wagon  well.  I  do  believe  if  he 
was  to  meet  it  on  the  way  to  a  fire  he  would  go 
'way  around  the  block  to  dodge  it.  Why,  say  —  I 
think—" 

But  I  never  heard  what  Joe  thought,  for  at  that 
instant  a  gong  began  to  ring, — a  dozen  men  seemed 
to  drop  from  the  very  sky, —  horses  rushed  past 
me, —  there  was  a  shout  here  and  there,  and  a 
voice  yelled:  '^632.  Seventy-fourth  Street  and 
Eighth  Avenue," — the  big  doors  opened,  and  be- 
fore I  could  recover  my  senses  the  engine  rolled 
by  me,  with  Peter's  biographer  in  the  seat  and  two 
figures  clinging  on  behind.  It  left  a  streak  of 
steam  and  a  strong  smell  of  burning  oil  as  it  rolled 
out,  and  I  could  see  one  of  the  figures  dash  a  great 
burning  mass  into  the  furnace  of  the  engine.  The 


188 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


next  instant  a  wagon  full  of  partly  dressed  men 
dashed  by  me,  and  I  was  alone  in  the  big  house, 
the  gong  beating  away  with  a  peculiar  jerking 
"  bang,  bang,"  and  a  thin  stream  of  steam  oozing 
from  the  steam-pipe  in  the  floor,  over  which  the 
"  five  tons  of  machinery  "  had  stood  a  quarter  of  a 
minute  before. 

A  hat  and  coat  and  a  halter -strap  thrown  here 
and  there  on  the  floor  were  all  the  evidence  left  of 
the  fifteen  or  sixteen  living,  breathing  creatures  — 
men  and  horses — that  had  stood  around  me  a  few 
seconds  before.  The  change  had  come  so  quickly 
I  could  scarcely  realize  it,  and  as  I  stepped  outside, 
while  a  friendly  neighbor  closed  the  massive  doors, 
I  unconsciously  looked  about  me  for  my  friend  and 
for  Peter.  But  they  were  gone  —  had  vanished 
from  the  street  as  quickly  as  they  had  from  the 
house,  and  all  that  remained  was  a  thin  haze  of 
smoke  that  filled  the  air  with  an  odd,  pungent 
smell.  In  the  distance  I  could  hear  the  clang  of  a 
bell,  the  shrieks  of  a  whistle  gradually  dying  away, 
and  above  all  the  shrill  barks  of  a  dog  —  cries  so 
sharp  and  penetrating  that  I  shall  never  forget 
them. 

This  was  Peter  Spots,  fireman,  on  duty. 


FLOATING  FIRE-ENGINES. 


ITH  the  growth  of  a  large  city,  the  protec- 


▼  tion  of  the  water-front  from  the  ravages  of 
fire  becomes  an  important  study,  almost  as  impor- 
tant as  the  study  of  fire  protection  for  the  city  it- 
self. Nearly  every  large  city  in  the  United  States 
owes  its  growth  to  its  nearness  to  some  body  of 
water,  either  lake,  river,  or  sea,  which  offers  ex- 
ceptional advantages  for  the  transportation  of  im- 
mense quantities  of  merchandise,  and  also  provides 
harborage  to  all  manner  of  craft  engaged  in  this 
work. 

This  merchandise  has  to  be  stored  somewhere 
during  the  process  of  loading  and  unloading  these 
vessels,  and  the  big  warehouses  and  wharf -build- 
ings along  the  water-front  serve  this  purpose ;  but 
very  often  the  most  valuable  cargoes  are  stored  for 
a  time  in  the  flimsiest  kind  of  buildings,  needing 
but  a  spark  to  start  a  destructive  conflagration. 


i89 


190 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


As  a  city  increases  in  size  its  importance  as  a 
freight-center  grows  in  proportion ;  and  the  vakie 
of  freight  and  merchandise  stored  alongshore,  dur- 
ing transit,  in  a  big  city  like  New  York,  can  only 
be  imagined.  No  reasonable  valuation  can  be 
given,  for  we  should  have  to  dive  too  deeply  into 
the  amounts  of  imports  and  exports  to  get  any- 
where near  the  truth;  but  it  is  safe  to  say  that 
one  hundred  millions  would  scarcely  cover  the 
property  exposed  to  the  danger  of  fire,  in  a  single 
day,  among  the  piers  and  wharf-houses  of  New 
York  City. 

Nor  is  this  danger  confined  to  piers  and  wharf- 
buildings  alone,  but  vessels  in  the  act  of  loading 
and  unloading  valuable  cargoes,  the  big  bonded 
warehouses  along  the  river-front,  the  docks  for 
great  ocean  steamers,  and  the  freight  stations  of 
many  big  railroads,  are  also  exposed  to  this  risk, 
and  need  to  be  well  protected,  for  a  serious  fire 
among  them  would  destroy  more  valuable  property 
than  perhaps  a  fire  of  the  same  extent  in  the  very 
heart  of  the  city. 

Fires  alongshore  are  difiicult  ones  to  handle. 
There  is  always  more  or  less  wind  near  the  water ; 
if  a  gale  is  blowing  it  seems  to  have  twice  as  much 
force  on  the  water-front,  and  a  fire  once  started 


FLOATING  FIRE-ENGINES 


193 


here  spreads  very  rapidly.  Then  fires  on  the  piers, 
or  in  the  wharf  buildings,  are  usually  very  hard  to 
fight;  although  there  is  plenty  of  water  all  around 
it  is  difficult  to  apply  it  to  good  effect.  The  land 
forces  can  only  fight  such  a  fire  from  one  position 
— the  street  side ;  and  if  the  wind  is  blowing  in- 
land it  drives  the  smoke  and  fire  directly  at  them, 
and  makes  it  nearly  impossible  to  hold  this  posi- 
tion. It  is  here  that  the  floating  fire-engine  or  fire- 
boat  can  do  its  valuable  work;  and  New  York 
possesses  a  fleet  of  such  vessels  —  three  boats  that 
are  fully  able  to  cope  with  a  flre  of  almost  any 
size,  whether  it  be  among  the  shipping,  along- 
shore, or  anywhere  in  the  harbor. 

Foremost  among  these  vessels  stands  the  fire- 
boat  New  Yorker  (officially  known  as  Engine  Co. 
No.  57),  as  she  is  without  doubt  the  most  powerful 
fire-boat  afloat.  The  New  Yorker's  berth  is  at  the 
Battery,  where  she  lies  beside  a  tasteful  building 
erected  by  the  Fire  Department  as  a  housing  for 
her  crew  or  company.  This  building  is  fitted  up 
with  all  the  requirements  of  an  engine-house  — 
bunk-room  up-stairs,  sliding-poles  to  make  a  quick 
descent  to  the  ground  floor,  and  a  complete  set  of 
telegraph  instruments,  to  inform  the  company  of 
all  the  alarms  throughout  the  city.    She  lies  with 

13 


194 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


steam  up,  at  all  times  ready  to  respond  in  an 
instant  to  any  alarm,  whether  it  be  by  telegrapli 
or  a  cry  for  assistance  from  a  burning  boat  in  mid- 
river.  She  will  dash  up  the  river  to  attack  a  burn- 
ing pier  or  warehouse,  or  down  the  bay  to  meet  an 
incoming  steamship  with  its  cargo  afire,  with  the 
same  activity.  Her  powerful  pumps  make  her 
almost  invincible  in  any  kind  of  marine  fire,  and 
she  is  also  a  valuable  assistant  to  the  land  forces. 

As  she  lies  at  her  berth  by  the  Battery,  she 
attracts  a  great  deal  of  attention  from  all  new 
arrivals  in  the  harbor,  and  on  account  of  her  for- 
midable appearance  she  is  usually  put  down  as 
some  new-fangled  torpedo-throwing  addition  to 
our  navy,  for  with  the  rows  of  brass-headed  hose- 
connections  along  the  side  of  the  deck-house,  and 
the  vicious-looking  stand-pipes,  or  "monitor- 
nozles,"  as  they  are  called,  mounted  fore  and  aft, 
she  certainly  has  a  defiant  and  business-like  ap- 
pearance. 

In  build  she  looks  like  a  rather  handsome  tug. 
She  is  125  feet  long,  26  feet  wide,  and  draws  about 
13  feet  of  water.  She  is  built  of  steel  and  iron 
throughout,  making  her  thoroughly  fire-proof,  even 
the  top  of  the  wheel-house  and  cabin  being  made 
of  a  kind  of  cement  as  hard  as  stone.    There  is 


GIANT  MONITOR-NOZLE  ON  THE  FIRE-BOAT  "NEW  YORKER." 


FLOATING  FIRE-ENGINES 


197 


little  woodwork  about  her  to  ignite,  and  she  is  thus 
enabled  to  approach  very  close  to  a  fire  and  deliver 
her  powerful  streams  at  short  range.  She  has  two 
very  large  boilers  and  four  sets  (eight  in  all)  of 
vertical,  double-acting  steam-pumps,  and  one  ad- 
ditional small  direct-acting  pump. 

These  pumps  have  a  throwing  capacity  of  fully 
10,000  gallons  of  water  every  minute,  and  under  the 
best  conditions  they  have  been  known  to  reach 
12,000  gallons  per  minute  —  over  6000  gallons  more 
than  any  other  fire-boat  afloat.  The  water  is  drawn 
in  through  the  sides  of  the  boat,  below  the  water-line, 
into  what  is  known  as  the  "  suction-bay,"  making 
an  inner  reservoir  from  which  the  pumps  are  fed. 

There  are  about  10,000  little  holes,  f-inch  in 
diameter,  bored  in  the  sides  of  the  boat  just  out- 
side these  suction-bays,  and  through  these  holes 
the  water  is  drawn  in,  filtering  it  so  that  no  for- 
eign substance  may  get  into  the  pumps.  From 
the  pumps  it  is  forced  into  an  air-chamber,  thus 
equalizing  the  pressure  all  around,  and  then  into  a 
veritable  water-main  12 .  inches  in  diameter,  which 
runs  all  around  the  boat,  between  decks,  and  which 
supplies  the  various  outlets.  There  are  forty-two 
of  these  outlets  (including  the  four  stand-pipes 
or  monitor-nozles),  and  they  vary  in  size  from  6 


198 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


inches  in  diameter  down  to  2J  inches  (the  size  of 
the  regulation  fire-hose).  Two  of  the  monitor- 
nozles  are  mounted  aft,  on  top  of  the  cabin,  and 
a  big  and  a  small  one  on  top  of  the  wheel-house. 
The  two  stand-pipes  aft  have  2J-inch  nozles,  the 
big  one  on  the  wheel-house  having  a  3J-inch  open- 
ing. From  the  latter  a  solid  3J-inch  stream  can  be 
thrown  a  distance  of  320  feet,  and  if  necessary  this 
can  be  increased  to  a  5J-inch  opening,  and  a  mighty 
stream  of  water,  having  that  width,  can  be  sent 
thundering  out  into  space  over  200  feet.  If  you 
could  hear  this  immense  stream  as  it  pours  into 
the  bay,  like  a  miniature  cataract,  you  could  better 
appreciate  the  power  of  this  remarkable  boat. 

No  body  of  fire  could  very  long  withstand  a  del- 
uge like  this,  and  it  requires  only  a  few  dashes  of 
this  massive  stream  effectively  to  quench  a  fire  in 
the  rigging  or  in  the  upper  works  of  a  ship.  The 
small  monitor-nozle  mounted  on  the  other  side  of 
the  wheel-house  has  a  If -inch  opening,  and  a  pow- 
erful stream  can  also  be  thrown  from  this,  and  of 
course  to  a  much  greater  distance,  for  as  the 
stream  is  reduced  in  diameter  it  can  go  a  great 
deal  farther. 

To  the  outlets  along  the  side  of  the  deck-house 
and  at  the  bow  and  stern  are  attached  short  lengths 


FLOATING  FIRE-ENGINES 


199 


of  hose,  to  fight  fire  at  close  range.  The  pumps  of 
the  New  Yorker  are  so  powerful,  and  the  pressure 
at  these  outlets  is  so  great,  that  it  would  be  impos- 
sible for  men  to  handle  these  lines  if  there  were  not 
some  sort  of  machinery  to  aid  them,  and  therefore 
an  appliance  known  as  a  "rail-pipe"  is  brought 
into  play.  This  is  something  like  a  big  row- 
lock, and  is  set  in  the  gunwale  in  the  same  manner 
that  a  row-lock  is  set  in  the  rail  of  a  row-boat.  It 
is  fastened  beneath  the  rail  with  a  pin,  and  be- 
tween the  forks  is  swung  an  iron  connection,  oar- 
fashion,  pivoted  at  the  sides.  The  short  length  of 
hose  is  attached  to  one  end  of  this  connection, 
and  a  nozle  to  the  other,  and  with  this  device 
one  man  is  able  to  control  and  direct  the  heaviest 
stream  with  ease.  The  monitor-nozles  also  can 
be  managed  by  one  man  each. 

The  fire-proof  construction  of  the  New  Yorker 
makes  it  possible  to  get  very  near  a  fire  and  de- 
liver the  powerful  side-streams  at  short  range ;  and 
should  the  heat  become  so  intense  that  the  men 
are  not  able  to  stand  by  the  rail-pipes,  protecting 
shields  are  brought  into  use,  behind  which  they 
can  direct  the  streams  with  comfort.  These  shields 
slide  along,  inside  the  rail,  on  a  kind  of  railway, 
so  they  can  be  placed  at  any  part  of  the  boat ;  and 


200 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


there  is  one  on  each  side.  They  are  made  of  two 
thicknesses  of  corrugated  iron,  with  an  air  space 
between,  thus  preventing  the  inner  lining  from 
becoming  heated.  They  are  arched  at  the  top, 
and  in  shape  are  somewhat  like  the  shields  used 
to  protect  the  gunners  while  working  at  the  rapid- 
firing  guns  on  our  modern  men-of-war. 

There  is  an  opening  at  the  bottom  of  these 
shields  for  the  nozles  of  the  rail-pipes  to  project 
through,  and  an  oblong  slot  above  for  the  fireman 
to  look  through  and  direct  the  water.  With  the 
aid  of  this  protection  for  the  men,  and  because  of 
her  own  salamander-like  construction,  the  New 
Yorker  is  able  to  sail  up  close  to  a  burning  vessel 
or  pier  and  deliver  a  broadside  of  powerful  streams 
where  the  ordinary  wooden  fire-tug  could  not  come 
within  fighting  distance;  and  her  ability  to  do 
this,  and  her  immense  pumps,  make  her  with- 
out a  doubt  the  most  complete  and  effective  mar- 
ine fire-engine  ever  built.  ^ 

A  curious  application  of  one  of  our  national 
laws  governing  river  boats  is  found  in  the  New 
Yorker.  Although  she  is  thoroughly  fire-proof 
in  construction,  and  has  ample  appliances  for 
throwing  water  in  every  direction,  yet  she  is 
compelled  to  carry  a  number  of  the  regulation 


FLOATING  FIRE-ENGINES 


203 


fire-buckets,  just  as  if  she  were  an  ordinary  river 
or  coast-wise  boat.  To  make  an  exception  in 
her  case  a  new  law  would  have  to  be  passed  to 
cover  her  case  alone. 

At  fires  in  buildings  along  the  river-front,  or  in 
streets  near  the  river,  the  New  Yorker  can  lie  at  a 
dock  near-by  and  supply  twenty  effective  streams ; 
and,  in  fact,  in  capacity  she  is  equal  to  that  num- 
ber of  land  engines.  If  the  fire  is  some  distance 
from  the  water-front,  immense  lengths  of  hose,  six 
inches  in  diameter,  can  be  attached  to  the  outlets 
of  that  size  in  the  sides  of  the  deck-house,  and 
by  the  aid  of  reducing  connections  can  be  re- 
duced in  size,  as  the  lines  are  stretched  into  the 
fire,  until  they  reach  the  regulation  sizes  —  2J 
or  3  inches  at  the  nozle  end.  She  can  supply  six  of 
these  powerful  streams  effectively  at  a  distance  of 
one  third  of  a  mile  from  her  location ;  and  at  big 
fires  she  becomes  a  valuable  aid  to  the  land  force. 

The  New  Yorker  made  her  earliest  appearance  as 
a  fire  fighter  at  the  burning  of  the  Sound  steamer 
City  of  Bichmofid,  at  her  pier,  foot  of  Peck  Slip, 
on  March  7,  1891. 

She  was  called  from  her  berth  at  the  Battery, 
and,  sailing  up  the  East  Eiver,  "opened  fire"  on 
the  burning  boat  with  a  monitor-nozle  while  still 


204 


FIGHTING  A  FIKE 


in  mid-stream.  The  stream  struck  the  boat  with 
terrific  force,  knocking  the  woodwork  in  every  di- 
rection and  breaking  off  strong  uprights  and  sup- 
ports as  if  they  had  been  pipe-stems.  There  were 
several  land  companies  working  on  the  boat  at  the 
time,  both  engine  and  hook  and  ladder,  and  they 
dropped  their  hose  and  tools  and  fled  in  dismay  at 
the  beginning  of  this  liquid  bombardment,  fearing 
for  their  lives. 

The  Chief  in  command  at  the  fire  rushed  to  the 
end  of  the  pier  and  signaled  to  the  Xew  Yorker 
to  shut  off  the  stream  that  was  creating  such  a 
panic.  For  a  moment  the  order  was  misunder- 
stood, and,  thinking  the  stream  was  wanted  in 
another  position,  it  was  shifted.  In  doing  so  it 
hit  the  end  of  the  pier  and  almost  lifted  the  roof 
of  the  wharf  building  at  the  end.  Finally,  it 
was  understood  on  board  the  Neiv  Yorker  that 
the  big  stream  was  not  wanted,  six  smaller  lines 
were  substituted  by  her  crew,  and  these  greatly 
assisted  the  land  forces  in  getting  the  fire  under 
control. 

There  is  no  need  for  these  floating  fire-engines 
to  carry  "  truck  "  companies  along  to  "open  up for 
them  so  they  can  get  at  the  seat  of  the  fire,  as  with 
the  land  companies.    One  blow  from  one  of  these 


FLOATING  FIRE-ENGINES 


207 


powerful  streams,  or  even  from  one  of  the  smaller 
streams,  is  sufficient  to  make  a  hole  in  anything, 
even  an  ordinary  brick  wall.  When  we  know  that 
a  S^-inch  stream  can  be  thrown  a  distance  of  320 
feet,  or  a  2-  or  2^-inch  stream  nearly  400  feet,  we 
can  easily  imagine  what  terrific  force  such  a  stream 
must  have  at  a  distance  of,  say,  50  feet ;  and  I  fear 
that  the  wall  of  bricks  and  cement  has  not  been 
put  up  that  could  long  withstand  an  onslaught 
from  a  hydraulic  battery  like  this. 

Next  to  the  New  Yorker  comes  the  fire-boat  Zo- 
pilar  Mills,  a  graceful-looking  boat  that  lies  at 
Pier  58,  North  River  (near  the  West  Fourteenth 
Street  ferry).  She  is  older  than  the  New  Yorker 
in  build  by  about  eight  years,  being  put  in  ser- 
vice in  1882,  while  the  latter  boat  was  not  built 
until  1890.  In  appearance  she  has  the  trim  lines 
of  a  handsome  river-boat,  and  does  not  look  unlike 
one  of  the  graceful  river-tugs  that  we  often  see 
gliding  up  the  Hudson  with  a  procession  of  small 
boats  in  tow.  She  is  painted  white;  and  were  it 
not  for  the  formidable  monitor-nozles  mounted  in 
the  bow  and  on  top  of  the  cabin  and  the  wheel- 
house,  we  should  never  suspect  her  to  be  capable 
of  the  active  work  of  a  floating  fire-engine. 

She  is  125  feet  long,  25  feet  wide,  and  draws 


208 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


about  11  feet  of  water.  Her  pumps  consist  of  two 
duplex  and  one  single  pump,  and  they  have  a  ca- 
pacity of  about  2400  gallons  of  water  every  minute, 
and  under  favorable  circumstances  have  reached 
over  3000  gallons  per  minute.  She  can  supply 
fourteen  streams  effectively,  and  from  the  stand- 
pipes  at  the  bow  and  on  the  cabin,  with  a  IJ-inch 
nozle,  she  can  throw  the  water  300  feet.  The  rail- 
pipes  are  used  on  the  Zopkar  Mills  as  on  the  New 
Yorker.  She  also  can  supply  powerful  streams  at 
land  fires.  At  an  experiment  which  was  tried 
several  years  ago,  in  what  is  known  as  the  "  dry- 
goods  district"  (one  of  the  most  valuable  of  the 
business  districts  of  New  York  City),  when  there 
was  danger  of  a  water-famine,  the  Zopliar  Mills 
pumped  enough  water  into  a  portable  water-tank, 
situated  a  mile  away  from  her  location,  to  supply 
four  land-engines.  This  proved  that  with  an  aid 
like  the  Zopliar  Mills  or  the  New  Yorker  it  would 
be  possible  to  extinguish  fires  in  this  district,  even 
though  the  water  in  the  city's  mains  was  too  low 
to  supply  the  engines. 

The  Zopliar  Mills  has  seen  active  service  and 
has  been  of  great  use  in  extinguishing  several 
large  fires.  At  the  burning  of  a  big  wall-paper 
factory  in  West  Forty-second  Street,  a  few  years 


FLOATING  FIEE-ENGINES 


209 


ago,  she  lay  at  the  end  of  a  long  pier  at  the  foot 
of  that  street  and  sent  a  powerful  stream,  through 
2100  feet  of  hose,  to  the  fire.  At  a  serious  fac- 
tory fire,  last  summer,  in  Greenwich  Street  I  saw 
a,  stream  from  this  boat  at  work,  and  it  was  really 
fascinating  to  watch  the  mighty  power  of  it.  It 
took  six  or  eight  men  to  control  the  stream,  and 
you  could  hear  it  thundering  and  crashing  in  the 
building,  as  it  knocked  packing-cases  about  and 
crashed  through  partitions  and  woodwork. 

The  crew  of  the  boat  are  housed  aboard  in  a 
bunk-room  in  the  forward  part  of  the  cabin.  There 
is  a  building  on  the  dock  beside  which  she  lies ; 
but  this  contains  only  an  office,  with  the  instru- 
ments for  receiving  the  alarms;  and  part  of  it  is 
used  as  a  store-room  for  supplies,  etc.  This  build- 
ing is  left  in  charge  of  the  "  house-watchman  "  when 
the  boat  responds  to  an  alarm. 

The  Zopliar  Mills  covers  the  North  Eiver  in 
answer  to  signals  from  Fifty-ninth  Street  down 
to  the  Battery.  She  goes  above  Fifty-ninth  Street 
as  far  as  the  city  limits  on  special  calls.  The 
Neiv  Yorker  comes  up  the  North  River  as  far  as 
Twenty- third  Street  on  the  first  alarm.  They  both 
respond  very  often  to  the  same  box.  The  Xew 
Yorker  goes  also  up  the  East  River  to  Grrand  Street 

14 


210 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


on  the  first  alarm,  where  the  third  vessel  of  the 
fleet  lies  —  the  Wm.  F.  Havenieyer,  This  latter 
vessel  covers  the  whole  of  the  East  Eiver  from 
Whitehall  Street  to  the  Harlem  Eiver,  a  distance 
of  about  nine  miles. 

The  Havemeyer  is  the  oldest  of  the  three  vessels, 
having  been  built  in  1875.  She  is  106  feet  long, 
22  feet  wide,  and  draws  10  feet  of  water.  In  ap- 
pearance she  looks  like  the  ordinary  harbor  tug; 
and  although  she  has  seen  twenty-two  years  of 
service  she  is  still  in  excellent  condition.  She  is 
fitted  with  four  duplex  fire-pumps  that  have  a 
capacity  of  2400  gallons  of  water  a  minute.  She 
can  deliver  this  water  through  stand-pipes  and 
different  sizes  of  hose,  with  nozles  varying  from  1 
inch  to  3i  inches  in  diameter.  She  has  been  a 
valuable  and  efiicient  aid  to  the  land  companies, 
and  has  extinguished  a  large  number  of  fires  among 
the  shipping. 

These  boats  serve  a  double  purpose,  for  they 
are  not  only  effective  water-throwing  engines,  but 
powerful  tugs  as  well.  When  a  fire  is  discovered 
on  a  ship  lying  among  other  vessels,  a  line  is  fas- 
tened to  her,  and  she  is  towed  out  into  mid-stream, 
where  she  cannot  spread  destruction  about  her. 
A  few  dashes  from  the  powerful  monitor-nozle 


FLOATING  FIKE-ENGINES 


211 


soon  puts  out  any  fire  in  the  rigging  and  upper 
works.  If  the  fire  has  spread  to  the  hold  or  has 
eaten  in  among  the  cargo,  she  is  towed  down 
to  the  mud-flats,  near  Liberty  Island,  or  to  the 
sand-bars  south  of  Grovernor's  Island,  and  beached. 
Then  the  big  lengths  of  hose  are  passed  aboard, 
large  metal  connections  are  fastened  to  the  ends, 
and  these  are  thrust  into  the  hold,  or  into  any 
compartment  where  there  is  fire,  and  she  is  soon 
pumped  full  of  water  and  the  fire  drowned  out.  If 
a  boat  like  the  New  Yorker  has  charge  of  this  work 
it  is  quickly  accomplished. 

This  saves  the  hull  of  the  vessel  and  lessens  the 
damage  considerably,  for  the  owners  can  have  her 
pumped  out  afterward,  and,  the  hull  remaining 
intact,  there  is  nothing  but  the  burned  interior  to 
repair.  If  she  were  scuttled  in  mid-stream,  the 
hull  would  interfere  with  navigation,  and  it  would 
cost  a  large  amount  to  raise  the  vessel ;  so  it  can 
be  seen  that  these  boats  can  render  other  services 
than  that  of  extinguishing  fires. 

In  fires  on  vessels  loaded  with  cotton  (they  make 
ugly  fires  to  handle),  a  lighter  is  usually  brought 
alongside,  and  after  the  worst  of  the  fire  has  been 
subdued  the  bales  are  hoisted  out,  one  by  one,  and 
extinguished  as  they  are  brought  out.    By  this 


212 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


means  part  of  the  cargo  is  saved,  for  only  the 
surfaces  of  the  bales  are  on  fire,  and  they  can 
be  picked  over  and  re-baled,  and  sold  again, 
while  to  fill  the  vessel  full  of  water  and  drown  out 
the  fire  would  destroy  the  whole  cargo ;  and  a  cot- 
ton fire  might  burn  for  months  if  fought  in  any 
other  way. 

On  these  boats  the  men's  life  is  about  the  same 
as  in  the  land  companies.  Two  men  are  kept  on 
watch  at  all  times  —  one  a  "  house- watch  "  and  the 
other  a  "  deck- watch."  The  house- watchman  keeps 
track  of  the  alarms  and  special  calls,  and  the  going 
and  coming  of  members  of  the  company  to  and 
from  meals,  and  has  charge  of  the  "house  jour- 
nal." The  deck- watch  sees  that  other  boats  do 
not  run  into  his  vessel,  and  also  keeps  a  sharp 
look-out  for  fires  along  the  river.  In  the  summer, 
when  there  are  few  fires,  a  position  on  the  fire- 
boat  is  a  pleasant  berth,  for  there  is  plenty  of  out- 
door life  and  sunshine  in  it ;  but  in  winter,  when  a 
keen  nor'wester  is  blowing  and  every  bit  of  spray 
freezes  hard  wherever  it  strikes,  the  land  com- 
panies, no  doubt,  have  the  advantage. 

Fighting  fire  along  the  water-front  in  mid- winter 
has  all  the  dangers  and  the  suffering  of  fire-duty 
ashore,  and  climbing  up  the  sides  of  vessels  and 


FLOATING  FIRE-ENGINES 


215 


upon  wharfs  and  piers,  getting  lines  into  posi- 
tion, when  every  bit  of  surface  is  covered  with  a 
thick  coating  of  ice,  is  risky  business ;  but,  as  one 
of  the  crew  of  the  Zophar  Mills  remarked  philoso- 
phically, "You  have  to  take  it  as  it  comes  —  the 
fat  and  the  lean  together." 

Brooklyn  has  two  very  efficient  fire-boats,  the 
David  A.  Boody  and  the  Seth  Low.  The  first  has 
a  capacity  of  5500  gallons  per  minute,  and  the 
second  is  capable  of  throwing  nearly  4000  gallons 
of  water  in  the  same  time.  With  the  consolidation 
of  the  two  cities  under  the  G-reater  New  York 
charter,  which  takes  effect  January  1, 1898,  all  these 
vessels  will  practically  belong  to  the  same  Fire 
Department,  so  that  the  "greater  city"  will  have 
a  fleet  of  six  powerful  fire-boats  (there  is  one  now 
in  course  of  construction  for  the  New  York 
Department),  with  a  combined  water-throwing 
capacity  of  over  35,000  gallons  of  water  per  minute 
(estimating  about  8000  capacity  for  the  new  boat) 
—  averitable  deluge  \ 

But  when  we  stand  on  the  Brooklyn  Bridge  and 
can  see  the  forest  of  vessels  lying  in  Erie  Basin, 
and  look  up  and  down  the  East  River  at  the  fringe 
of  boats  lying  at  both  the  Brooklyn  and  New  York 
sides,  with  the  thousands  of  craft  coming  and  go- 


216 


FLOATING  FIRE-ENGINES 


ing  every  moment  through  this  busy  stream,  we 
can  easily  imagine  what  dreadful  havoc  a  serious 
conflagration  would  cause  if  it  should  once  get  any 
headway  among  this  mass  of  shipping. 

There  are  about  eighteen  miles  of  water-front  on 
both  sides  of  Manhattan  Island,  and  about  the 
same  distance  on  the  Brooklyn  side,  counting  from 
Long  Island  City  to  Fort  Hamilton — a  big  surface 
exposed  to  the  dangers  of  fh^e,  and  a  large  territory 
to  cover  effectually ;  but  when  he  reflects  upon  the 
protection  given  by  the  efficient  fleet  of  floating 
fire-engines  that  I  have  just  described,  I  am  sure 
the  average  skipper  need  not  be  unduly  anxious 
when  lying  at  anchor  or  tied  to  a  pier  in  the  harbor 
of  Greater  New  York. 


THE  FIRE  PATHOL 


>» 

THE  annual  loss  by  fire  in  the  United  States 
amounts  to  over  one  hundred  millions  of  dol- 
lars, and  fully  one  half  of  this  loss  is  caused  by  the 
water  used  in  extinguishing  the  fires.  Before  the 
introduction  in  1872  of  controlling  or  shut-off  noz- 
zles used  on  the  fire-hose,  the  percentage  of  loss  by 
water  was  even  greater- — at  least  two  thirds  of  the 
total  loss.  Previous  to  the  introduction  of  this 
much-needed  device,  there  was  used  what  was 
known  as  an  "open  pi23e,"  a  plain,  open  nozzle 
with  no  contrivance  for  shutting  off  the  water. 
When  it  was  necessary  to  shut  off,  the  order  had 
to  be  passed  to  the  engineer,  sometimes  a  long 
distance  from  the  fire ;  and  unless  the  nozzle  could 
be  thrust  from  a  convenient  window,  the  water 
would  go  pouring  out,  spreading  destruction  in  all 
directions.  In  small  fires,  especially  in  "  up-stairs  " 
fires  in  private  dwellings,  or  in  business  houses 

217 


218 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


stocked  with  perishable  goods,  such  as  feathers, 
silks,  etc.,  the  unnecessary  destruction  of  property 
was  very  great. 

To-day,  fires  are  fought  much  more  scientifi- 
cally, and  with  a  great  deal  more  system,  than 
were  those  of  ten  or  twenty  years  ago ;  and  officers 
in  command  of  engine  companies  are  usually  very 
careful  not  to  use  any  more  water  than  is  abso- 
lutely necessary.  Nearly  every  hose-wagon  in  the 
New  York  Fire  Department  to-day  carries  three 
sizes  of  hose  —  the  regulation  size,  2 J-inch,  used  at 
all  ordinary  fires;  3-inch  (known  as  "third-alarm 
hose,"  and  used  only  at  fires  of  considerable  mag- 
nitude), and  a  small  hose  carried  on  a  reel  under 
the  wagon.  This  hose  is  IJ  inches  in  diameter, 
and  very  easy  to  handle,  and,  on  account  of  the 
ease  with  which  any  number  of  lengths  of  it  can 
be  carried  about,  it  is  that  oftenest  used  at  small 
fires  in  dwelling-houses,  office-buildings,  and  flats. 
With  a  controlling  nozzle  on  the  end,  the  fireman 
can  dash  up  several  flights  of  stairs  and  into  a 
bedroom  or  closet,  and  extinguish  a  small  fire  be- 
fore it  has  time  to  spread,  using  the  water  only 
where  it  is  absolutely  needed.  To  drag  the  regu- 
lation size  (it  weighs  about  eighty  pounds  to  the 
length)  up  and  around  winding  stairways,  etc., 


i 


THE  FIRE  PATROL 


221 


would  take  much  longer,  and  perhaps  give  a  fire 
time  to  get  just  beyond  the  point  of  easy  control ; 
besides,  when  the  water  is  finally  started,  a  great 
deal  more  is  used  by  this  hose  than  is  necessary, 
especially  in  the  case  of  a  small  fire.  It  has 
been  practically  demonstrated  that  a  considerable 
amount  of  fire  can  be  extinguished  with  a  small 
amount  of  water  applied  effectively,  and  the  use  of 
the  small  hose  has  done  much  to  reduce  the  dam- 
age by  water  at  fires  in  dwellings  and  flats. 

Then  the  "  Chemical  Engine,"  used  considerably 
in  the  fire  departments  of  several  cities,  has  aided 
materially  in  lowering  the  loss  by  water  at  small 
fires.  The  preparation  carried  in  the  tanks  of 
these  engines  has  a  double  advantage;  not  only 
does  it  extinguish  a  large  body  of  fire  with  the  use 
of  a  small  amount  of  water,  but  the  liquid  itself 
evaporates  quickly,  leaving  very  little  "drip"  in 
the  apartments  or  floors  underneath  the  fire. 

The  tanks  of  these  engines  are  charged  with  a 
solution  of  bicarbonate  of  soda  (baking-soda)  and 
water,  with  a  small  cylinder  of  sulphuric  acid  sus- 
pended at  the  top.  When  the  tank  is  inverted, 
this  acid  is  emptied  into  the  soda  and  water,  and 
the  mixture  at  once  generates  carbonic-acid  gas  at 
a  great  pressure.    Charging  the  liquid  with  this 


222 


FIGHTING  A  FIEE 


gas  gives  it  the  necessary  pressure  to  drive  it  a 
considerable  distance.  The  hose  is  coiled  around 
a  reel  on  top  of  the  engine,  and  always  connected 
with  the  tanks,  so  when  the  firemen  arrive  at  a 
fii-e  all  they  have  to  do  is  to  run  off  as  much  hose 
as  they  need,  dash  up-stairs  with  the  line,  give  the 
order  to  "  dump  "  one  of  the  tanks  (there  are  two, 
carrying  sixty  gallons  each),  and  they  are  all 
ready  to  go  to  work.  The  Chemical  Engine,  a 
picture  of  which  is  shown  on  page  219,  has  extin- 
guished more  than  twenty-five  fires  of  consider- 
able size  since  it  has  been  in  service  in  the  New 
York  Department,  a  little  over  a  year.  It  is  sta- 
tioned on  the  upper  west  side  of  the  city,  where 
there  are  a  great  number  of  dwellings  and  flats, 
and  it  has  aided  materially  in  keeping  down  the 
fire  losses  in  that  part  of  New  York. 

With  the  use  of  improved  methods  such  as  I 
have  described,  the  losses  by  water  at  fires  have 
undoubtedly  been  greatly  reduced  in  the  past  few 
years  in  our  larger  cities,  but  it  is  also  due  to  the 
efficiency  of  a  separate  organizati  on,  entirely  inde- 
pendent of  the  Fire  Department,  that  an  immense 
amount  of  property  is  saved  annually  from  de- 
struction by  water  and  by  fire  as  well. 

No  doubt  many  people  have  noticed,  when  an 


THE  FIRE  PATROL 


223 


alarm  of  fire  has  been  sounded  and  the  fire  ap- 
paratus arrives,  a  big  red  wagon  dashing  up,  filled 
with  men  wearing  red  fire-hats  and  white  rubber 
coats.  They  seem  to  be  part  of  the  regular  Fire 
Department,  and  yet  are  not.  They  are  dressed 
to  all  appearances  like  the  regulation  firemen,  but 
their  work  is  different,  and  few  people  know  that 
they  represent  a  separate  branch  of  the  fire  ser- 
vice, and  one  entirely  unconnected  with  the  regu- 
lar department. 

In  New  York  the  organization  is  known  as  the 
"Fire  Patrol,"  and  it  is  controlled  and  supported 
by  the  Board  of  Fire  Underwriters,  acting  for  the 
various  fire-insurance  companies. 

Practically,  this  detachment  of  the  Fire  Patrol, 
that  responds  at  every  alarm  of  fire,  is  simply  the 
representatives  of  all  the  insurance  companies  put 
together.  The  companies  are  assessed  proportion- 
ally for  the  support  of  this  Patrol,  and  the  im- 
mense amount  of  property  saved  annually  by  this 
efficient  body  of  men  proves  that  the  money  is 
well  spent.  This  organization  is  found  in  nearly 
every  large  city  in  the  United  States,  and  is 
known  variously  under  such  names  as  Fire  Patrol, 
Protective  Department,  and  Salvage  Corps;  but 
their  work  in  each  city  is  practically  the  same. 


224 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


The  history  of  the  New  York  branch  of  this 
novel  addition  to  the  fire  service  is  not  uninterest- 
ing, for  its  establishment  dates  back  to  the  begin- 
ning of  the  present  century,  at  which  time  it  was 
known  as  the  "  Mutual  Assistance  Bag  Company." 

Originally  this  was  a  banding  together  of  New 
York  merchants  for  mutual  protection  at  fires. 
Each  member  of  the  above  "company"  wore  a 
"badge  of  distinction"  at  fires,  consisting  of  a 
round  hat  with  a  black  rim  and  a  white  crown 
bearing  the  initial  letters  of  the  organization,  "M. 
A.",  on  the  front.  He  was  also  armed  with  two 
stout  canvas  bags  about  two  by  three  feet  in  size, 
having  upon  the  outside  his  name  in  full  and  the 
letters  M.  A.  surrounded  by  a  circle.  At  each  alarm 
of  fire  the  members  of  the  company  responded  with 
hat  and  bags;  and  if  a  fellow-member's  property 
was  in  danger,  saved  what  they  could,  and  con- 
veyed it  in  these  bags  to  some  place  of  safety. 

We  find  among  the  list  of  members  of  this 
organization  in  1803  such  names  as  Beekman, 
Bleecker,  Cruger,  Cutting,  De  Peyster,  Roosevelt, 
Stuyvesant,  and  others  as  well  known ;  showing 
that  many  of  the  pioneer  merchants  of  New  York 
City  were  incorporators  of  this  mutual  fire-protec- 
tive association.    It  is  extremely  interesting  to 


THE  FIRE  PATROL 


227 


picture  to  the  mind  a  group  of  these  sturdy  old 
Knickerbockers,  working  energetically  amid  the 
exciting  surroundings  of  a  fire,  stowing  goods  and 
chattels  away  in  canvas  bags  bearing  names  that 
have  since  become  historically  famous  or  promi- 
nently identified  with  the  growth  of  old  Manhattan. 

In  1839  the  present  Fire  Patrol  was  organized, 
practically  evolving,  so  far  as  records  show,  from 
this  same  Mutual  Bag  Compauy.  Their  head- 
quarters were  on  Dutch  Street,  where  a  small 
wagon,  pulled  by  hand,  was  kept  stored  on  the  top 
floor  of  a  building.  This  wagon  was  lowered  to 
the  street  each  evening  at  7  p.  m.,  and  hoisted  back 
again  at  5  a.  m.  ;  between  these  hours  the  Fire  Pa- 
trol men  were  on  duty.  Later  the  service  was  in- 
creased by  the  addition  of  another  wagon  and  more 
men  ;  and  in  1870  the  Patrol  was  reorganized  and 
put  upon  a  more  substantial  and  more  effective 
basis. 

Three  stations  were  opened  in  different  parts  of 
the  city,  and  the  companies,  under  command  of 
three  officers,  were  taken  from  the  regular  Fire  De- 
partment. The  most  approved  wagons  and  the 
best  telegraphic  instruments  were  introduced,  and 
the  finest  horses  obtainable  were  purchased  for  the 
service. 


228 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


It  is  a  question  whether  any  branch  of  the  regu- 
lar Fire  Department  responded  so  quickly  as  the 
detachments  from  these  different  stations;  and 
they  presented  a  stirring  picture  as  they  thundered 
along  on  their  way  to  a  fire. 

The  service  in  New  York  has  been  still  further 
enlarged,  and  to-day  there  are  five  stations,  each 
containing  two  sections  or  two  complete  companies ; 
so  when  one  section  responds  to  an  alarm,  another 
-complete  section  (officer,  men,  and  wagon)  is  left 
in  quarters.  Each  station  is  manned  by  a  captain, 
-a  lieutenant,  a  sergeant,  and  from  sixteen  to  twenty- 
:four  permanent  men,  and  is  further  strengthened 
.at  night  by  the  addition  of  ten  auxiliary  men  who 
(Can  be  called  upon  at  any  moment  for  service. 
These  are  men  who  work  during  the  day  at  va- 
rious other  occupations,  and  are  paid  only  for  the 
time  they  are  at  fires.  The  permanent  force  is 
also  recruited  from  these  "auxiliary  men." 

A  section  of  this  Patrol  responds  to  eYevy  alarm 
of  fire  in  New  York  City.  They  are  entirely  inde- 
pendent of  the  department  system,  their  only  con- 
nection being  a  telegraphic  one  by  which  they  get 
all  alarms  from  fire  headquarters.  When  they  ar- 
rive at  a  fire  their  duty  is  to  save  property  and 
protect  it  from  damage  by  water.    This  they  do  by 


THE  FIRE  PATROL 


229 


removing  it  when  possible,  or  by  covering  it  in  the 
buikiings  with  immense  oil-skin  or  tarpaulin  covers. 
Twenty-four  of  these  covers  are  carried  in  each 
wagon,  and  each  measures  fourteen  by  twenty  feet. 
This  makes  6720  square  feet  of  covering  material, 
and  a  great  deal  of  furniture,  household  goods,  or 
valuable  stock  can  be  protected  from  water  with 
the  first  wagon-load  of  covers.  When  more  are 
needed,  another  wagon-load  is  sent  for. 

These  covers  are  not  only  spread  over  goods  upon 
counters,  tables,  and  so  on,  but  they  are  fastened 
up  at  the  sides  of  stores  to  protect  property  on  the 
shelves.  They  can  be  hung  over  perishable  goods 
in  such  a  manner  as  to  keep  them  practically  in- 
tact while  a  serious  fire  is  extinguished  in  the  build- 
ing above  them.  The  Fire  Patrol  men  also  take 
charge  of  a  building  after  a  fire  and  clean  out  all 
the  rubbish  and  water.  They  also  board  up  broken 
windows  and  openings  made  in  the  dead-lights  over 
cellars,  cover  roofs  that  have  been  either  burnt  or 
cut  away  during  the  fire,  and  leave  a  man  in  charge 
until  the  losses  have  been  adjusted  with  the  insur- 
ance companies. 

They  work  in  perfect  harmony  with  the  regular 
Fire  Department,  and  very  often  are  of  great  as- 
sistance to  the  latter-  helping  them  to  make  open- 


230 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


ings  in  the  buildings  so  as  to  get  the  lines  of  hose 
in  position,  and  aiding  the  regular  firemen  in  other 
ways.  Their  record  of  life-saving  at  fires  is  a  bril- 
liant one,  several  of  the  most  daring  rescues  having 
been  performed  by  members  of  the  Fire  Patrol. 

Some  of  the  wagons  carry  a  complete  set  of 
life-saving  appliances,  such  as  scaling-ladders  and 
life-nets,  and  the  wagons  also  contain  a  large  assort- 
ment of  the  tools  used  at  fires.  Small  fires  are  fre- 
quently extinguished  by  the  Patrol  men,  for  they 
are  very  often  the  first  company  to  arrive,  and 
with  the  two  portable  fire-extinguishers,  carried  on 
each  wagon,  a  small  fire  can  be  put  out  before  the 
arrival  of  the  engines.  Thus  it  can  be  seen  that 
their  value  as  an  aid  to  the  regular  Fire  Depart- 
ment is  not  to  be  underestimated. 

Nor  is  it  to  be  imagined  for  a  moment  that  their 
work  at  fires  is  free  from  danger.  They  sometimes 
perform  their  special  line  of  work  under  even  more 
trying  circumstances  than  do  the  firemen.  At 
"  top-story  "  or  "  up-stairs  "  fires  in  big  warehouses 
filled  with  perishable  goods,  or  in  some  of  the  big 
business  buildings  on  Broadway  (especially  in  the 
"  Dry  Goods  District while  the  firemen  are  work- 
ing above,  or  on  a  line  with  the  fire,  the  Fire  Pa- 
trol men  are  working  underneath^  making  the  most 


FIRE  PATROL  MEN  CARRYING  COVERS  INTO  A  BURNING  STOKE. 


THE  FIRE  PATROL 


233 


heroic  efforts  to  save  a  stock  sometimes  fifteen  or 
twenty  times  the  value  of  that  being  consumed  by 
the  fire.  They  work  in  a  smoke-charged  atmo- 
sphere, spreading  and  hanging  their  covers  while  a 
scalding  deluge  of  water  blisters  their  hands,  faces, 
and  necks ;  for  the  tons  of  water  being  poured  upon 
the  flames  have  to  pass  through  the  fire  before 
they  descend,  and  often  come  down  almost  boiling. 

An  incident  that  occurred  at  a  severe  fire  in  a 
big  business  house  some  two  years  ago  will  give 
an  idea  of  what  the  members  of  these  protective 
departments  have  to  face  at  times  in  order  to  save 
property.  The  fire  broke  out  about  midnight  in 
the  basement  of  an  immense  fire-proof  building  on 
Greene  Street,  extending  a  whole  block  from  West 
Fourth  Street  to  Washington  Place.  When  the 
firemen  arrived,  half  the  basement,  or  practically 
half  the  block,  was  in  flames,  but  on  account  of  the 
fire-proof  construction  of  the  building  the  fire  was 
confined  to  the  basement  part.  The  fire  was  burn- 
ing so  fiercely  that  the  shutters  of  the  basement 
windows  were  almost  red-hot,  and  the  dead-lights 
over  the  sidewalk  were  so  heated  that  the  tar 
around  the  glass  was  bubbling  and  running  in 
streams  across  the  walk  to  the  gutter.  The  con- 
struction of  the  building  was  very  substantial,  and 


234 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


it  was  almost  impossible  for  the  firemen  to  make 
au  entrance  ;  indeed,  the  windows  and  dead-lights 
had  to  be  broken  in  before  they  eonld  secure  access 
to  the  building  and  get  to  work. 

The  basement  was  occupied  by  a  straw-hat  man- 
ufacturer, and  the  captain  of  No.  2  Fire  Patrol 
(one  of  the  first  companies  to  arrive)  felt  sure  there 
must  be  a  sub-cellar  stored  with  a  most  perish- 
able stock.  How  to  reach  it  before  the  firemen 
began  to  throw  water  upon  the  fire  was  the  ques- 
tion. It  seemed  well  nigh  impossible  to  get  into 
the  basement  through  the  regular  entrances;  and 
to  venture  in  while  the  fire  was  raging  as  it  was 
seemed  almost  foolhardy,  but  he  determined  to 
reach  the  cellar  at  any  cost  and  find  out  what  it 
contained.  After  considerable  effort  he  succeeded 
in  making  an  entrance  on  the  north  side  of  the 
building  (the  main  body  of  fire  was  on  the  south 
end),  and  groping  his  way  through  the  smoke  and 
darkness,  lantern  in  hand,  he  found  himself  in  the 
basement.  The  heat  was  intense  and  the  air 
stifling.  Ahead  of  him  in  the  corner  of  the  base- 
ment he  could  see  the  flames  rolling  about,  crack- 
ling and  roaring  as  they  devoured  case  after  case 
of  goods.  Peering  through  the  thick  atmosphere, 
it  was  some  time  before  he  could  discover  anything 


THE  FIRE  PATROL 


235 


that  looked  like  the  entrance  to  the  cellar ;  but 
finally  he  spied  a  door  about  midway  in  the  base- 
ment that  he  felt  sure  must  lead  to  the  sub-cellar. 
It  was  dangerously  near  the  roaring  furnace  ahead 
of  him,  and  he  thought  to  himself :  "  Can  I  reach 
that  and  get  into  the  cellar  and  back  again  before 
the  fire  cuts  me  off  ?  "  He  made  up  his  mind  at 
least  to  make  the  effort.  So  he  walked  cautiously 
across  the  basement  floor  toward  the  door,  keeping 
his  eye  on  the  fire  all  the  time.  It  grew  hotter  and 
hotter  as  he  advanced,  and  the  perspiration  was 
pouring  from  his  face  in  great  beads,  and  he  was 
almost  suffocated  when  his  hand  finally  rested  on 
the  knob  of  the  door.  He  opened  it  and  stepped 
inside.  What  a  relief!  The  transformation  was 
almost  marvelous,  for  the  change  from  the  heated 
atmosphere  of  the  basement  to  the  cool  air  of  the 
cellar  was  like  stepping  out  of  a  red-hot  oven  into 
an  ice-box. 

He  descended  the  cellar  stairs  rapidly,  and  hold- 
ing his  lantern  aloft,  looked  about  him.  It  was  as 
he  had  suspected.  The  cellar  was  filled  with  im- 
mense cases  of  straw  hats,  and  although,  owing  to 
the  fire-proof  floor,  the  fire  probably  could  not  de- 
scend, when  the  many  streams  got  to  work  the 
damage  by  water  would  be  enormous. 


236 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


He  hastily  ascended;  peering  cautiously  out  of 
the  door,  he  found  the  fire  had  not  advanced  any 
further.  He  then  made  his  way  quickly  through 
the  dense  smoke  to  the  street. 

He  reported  to  the  superintendent  of  the  Patrol, 
who  had  arrived  by  this  time,  the  fact  that  he  had 
been  in  the  basement  and  his  discovery  in  the 
cellar,  and  told  him  he  could  do  a  great  deal  of 
good  if  he  could  only  take  the  men  down,  and 
cover  up  the  stock.  The  superintendent  was  at 
fii-st  loath  to  let  him  do  so,  for  the  situation  looked 
too  dangerous;  but  finally  he  gave  permission, 
and  the  captain  gathered  his  Patrol  men  about 
him,  and  armed  with  covers  they  followed  him  to 
the  sub-cellar  to  "  cover  up." 

By  this  time  the  companies  that  had  responded 
to  the  second  and  third  alarms  sent  out  were  at 
work,  as  well  as  companies  that  had  been  or- 
dered into  the  basement ;  and  the  air  in  the  cellar 
was  not  as  pleasant  as  when  the  captain  had  first 
descended.  The  fire  had  begun  to  "settle,"  and 
the  sub-cellar  was  filled  with  a  thick,  murky 
smoke,  while  a  constant,  scalding  drip  was  falling 
from  the  ceiling. 

In  this  dim,  stifling  atmosphere  the  Patrol  men 
went  to  work  with  a  will,  spreading  their  water- 


IN  THE  CELLAR  WITH  THE  FIRE. 


THE  FIRE  PATROL 


239 


proof  covers  over  case  after  case  of  valuable  stock, 
while  overhead  they  could  hear  the  roaring  and 
crackling  of  the  flames,  the  splashing  of  the  many 
streams  as  they  were  dashed  about,  and  now  and 
then  a  dull  crash  as  some  heavy  piece  of  masonry 
was  crumbled  away  by  the  heat.  These  were  con- 
ditions under  which  few  men  would  care  to  labor, 
and  yet  the  members  of  the  Patrol  were  working 
energetically,  scarcely  giving  a  thought  to  the 
danger  that  hung  above  them. 

At  any  moment  the  fire  raging  in  the  basement 
over  their  heads  might  get  beyond  the  control  of 
the  firemen  battling  with  it,  and,  spreading,  cut 
off  all  means  of  escape,  or  the  steel  and  iron  struc- 
ture of  the  building,  warped  and  twisted  by  the 
dreadful  heat  it  was  being  subjected  to,  might 
give  way  and  send  floor  after  floor  loaded  with 
heavy  merchandise  crashing  down  upon  them. 
This  and  a  hundred  other  possibilities  menaced 
them  while  they  labored  in  the  murky  cellar ;  and 
when  the  work  was  done  101  covers  had  been 
spread,  and  property  valued  at  over  a  hundred 
thousand  dollars  had  been  saved  from  destruction. 

When  No.  2  Patrol  returned  to  quarters  the  next 
morning  (for  it  was  nearly  morning  before  they 
were  through),  there  was  scarcely  a  member  whose 


240 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


neck,  hands,  and  wrists  were  not  scalded  and  blis- 
tered to  a  painful  degree,  for  they  had  worked  dur- 
ing nine  hours  in  a  veritable  shower-bath  of  hoiling 
water,  from  which  there  was  no  escape. 

Nor  do  they  always  get  off  so  easily  as  in  this 
case;  many  members  have  been  maimed  and  in- 
jured at  fires  while  in  their  endeavor  to  protect 
property.  This  little  clipping,  taken  from  a  New 
York  paper  during  1893,  tells  how  one  brave  man 
lost  his  life  in  the  service,  and  the  history  of  the 
organization  has  many  similar  cases. 

FIRE  PATROLMAN  KILLED 

August  Milner  of  Fire  Patrol  No.  1  was  killed  while  on 
duty  at  a  fire  last  night  at  No.  436  Pearl  Street.  The 
building,  a  picture-frame  factory,  was  stored  mth 
naphtha  and  varnish,  which  made  a  fierce  blaze.  Patrol- 
men Milner,  Albert  Donovan,  James  Burnett,  George  W. 
Waddy,  and  Theodore  F.  Ailing,  all  members  of  No.  1 
Patrol,  were  at  work  on  the  ground-floor  covering  up 
costly  picture-frames  with  tarpaulin,  when  the  ceiling 
came  down,  together  with  a  lot  of  picture-frames  stacked 
against  the  wall.  Milner  was  pinned  down  by  the  debris 
with  Donovan. 

The  flames  were  spreading  rapidly,  but  the  members  of 
Hook  and  Ladder  Company  No.  10  rushed  to  the  rescue. 


THE  FIRE  PATROL 


241 


Frank  Orgne  of  No.  10  pulled  Donovan  out.  The  hose 
was  turned  on  the  debris  to  prevent  the  flames  from 
reaching  Milner,  who  was  completely  covered.  His 
would-be  rescuers  had  to  retreat  to  save  their  own  lives, 
leaving  him  to  his  fate.  It  was  said  by  Milner's  com- 
rade that  he  must  have  been  killed  by  the  falling  debris. 

At  fires  in  the  homes  of  the  poor  these  detach- 
ments of  the  Patrol  work  just  as  earnestly  and 
conscientiously  to  save  property  as  they  would  in 
the  expensively  furnished  mansions  of  the  rich. 
At  tenement-house  fires  they  are  of  great  service. 
First  they  aid  in  getting  the  people  out;  then, 
gathering  the  goods  together,  the  Patrol  men  pro- 
tect them  from  water  with  tarpaulin  covers.  The 
majority  of  these  fires  break  out  in  the  basements 
or  cellars ;  then,  following  the  air-  and  light-shafts 
to  the  top  floor,  they  spread,  and  do  the  greatest 
damage  in  the  upper  stories.  To  extinguish  these 
fires,  the  other  floors  below  have  to  be  flooded,  and 
were  it  not  for  the  Fire  Patrol  in  many  cases  the 
poor  families  would  lose  everything  they  owned. 
As  one  of  the  captains  of  the  Patrol  remarked: 
"  Why,  it  would  do  your  heart  good  if  you  could 
hear  how  profuse  these  poor  people  are  in  their 
thanks,  and  the  blessings  they  shower  on  us  when 
they  find  we 've  saved  their  things.    They  go  run- 

16 


242  FIGHTING  A  FIRE 

ning  around,  t^ringing  their  hands  and  crying: 
*  Everything  's  lost !  Everyching  's  lost ! '  and 
then,  when  the  fire  is  out,  we  lead  them  back  and 
show  them  their  things,  as  dry  as  a  chip  under  the 
covers,  and  —  well,  say — there  is  n't  anything 
they  would  n't  do  for  us !  Half  the  time  they  're 
not  insured,  and  it  is  n't  our  business  to  protect 
people  who  are  not ;  but  we  're  not  supposed  to 
know  everything,  and  our  orders  are  to  protect 
property  first  and  find  out  whether  it  is  insured 
afterward ;  and  it  is  not  our  fault  if  we  save  the 
little  all  of  a  lot  of  poor  creatures  who  half  the 
time  have  n't  a  change  of  clothes  to  their  back. 
You  bet,  we  get  to  work  just  as  quick  in  a  tene- 
ment-house fire  as  in  a  big  house  on  Fifth  Ave- 
nue, and  we  do  the  same  work  in  both  places,  no 
matter  whether  it  's  for  the  rich  or  the  poor." 

At  serious  fires  in  the  Dry  Goods  District,  or  in 
big  buildings  and  stores  filled  with  valuable  stock, 
the  efficient  work  performed  by  the  Patrol  can 
scarcely  be  estimated.  Most  of  these  fires  also 
spread  to  the  upper  floors,  and  about  the  only 
thing  that  can  extinguish  them  effectively  is  the 
"water-tower."  This  appliance  is  the  greatest 
friend  and  the  greatest  enemy  that  the  insurance 
companies  have;  for  while  it  puts  out  a  big  fire 


A  WATER-TOWER  AT  WORK, 


''vying : 


THE  FIRE  PATROL 


245 


quickly,  at  the  same  time  it  destroys  valuable  prop- 
erty with  water.  When  a  fire  is  raging  in  the  up- 
per part  of  a  high  building  the  water-tower  can 
throw  an  immense  stream  practically  on  a  line  with 
the  fire,  and  it  can  be  driven  clear  through  a  floor 
or  loft,  really  washing  the  fire  out ;  but  the  tons  of 
water  descending  through  the  floors  below  play  sad 
havoc  with  a  valuable  stock;  and  in  a  structure 
filled  with  silks,  laces,  dry  goods,  upholstery  ma- 
terials, or  similar  commodities,  it  can  be  readily 
seen  what  an  immense  amount  of  damage  would 
be  done  if  it  were  not  for  the  quick  covering  of 
goods  by  the  Patrol.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the 
annual  saving  to  the  insurance  companies  by  the 
New  York  organization  amounts  to  millions  of 
dollars,  so  it  can  be  seen  that  its  existence  is 
not  in  vain. 

In  the  picture  on  page  243  the  water-tower  is 
seen  at  work  at  a  recent  big  fire  in  New  York ;  and 
the  picture  also  shows  the  stand-pipe  or  monitor- 
nozzle  at  the  end  of  the  wagon  that  carries  the 
tower.  Two  "  street-lines  "  are  also  at  work,  strik- 
ing the  fifth  and  sixth  floors  respectively.  While 
more  or  less  of  the  water  sent  from  the  street-lines 
is  spent  on  the  outside  of  the  building,  the  stream 
from  the  tower  goes  straight  in  through  the  fifth- 


246 


FIGHTING  A  FIRE 


story  window,  and  very  little  of  the  water  is  lost 
outside.  At  a  rough  estimate,  there  are  about  10- 
000  gallons  a  minute  passing  through  these  four 
streams,  and  some  idea  of  the  drip  within  the  build- 
ing can  be  formed  from  the  miniature  Niagara 
pouring  off  the  shed  outside.  Had  the  lower  part 
of  the  building  been  filled  with  dry  goods  or  other 
perishable  stock,  the  loss  would  have  been  enor- 
mous ;  but  as  it  was  filled  with  wines  and  liquors 
in  cases,  the  loss,  though  heavy,  was  light  in  com- 
parison with  the  amount  of  water  used. 

With  a  perfect  Fire  Department  such  as  New 
York  possesses  to-day,  and  an  efficient  auxiliary 
force  in  the  Fire  Patrol  that  I  have  just  described, 
the  wholesale  losses  by  fire  of  former  years  ought 
to  be  soon  a  thing  of  the  past  in  this  great  city. 
With  the  two  forces  combined,  we  have  undoubt- 
edly before  us  the  greatest  fire-service  of  any  city 
in  the  world.  Yet,  when  we  consider  that  in  1896 
there  were  4309  alarms  of  fire  in  New  York  City, 
and  that  out  of  this  number  3890  were  actual  fires, 
we  can  easily  realize  that  there  must  be  a  perfect 
organization  to  combat  such  a  foe.  That  New 
York  possesses  such  an  organization  I  firmly 
believe. 


